The Deep End of An Age
by The Flesh of JRB
Summary: Zell and the other members of SeeD must confront a Lovecraftian malevolence threatening to destroy the world they know. Chapter 18 up. Sorry for the wait.
1. When he rises

Chapter 1: When he rises…

Zell ran. He ran until his legs begged him for rest, or for destruction. Then he slowed, walked, stretched, and ran some more. He stopped when he came to the far north-east along the shore-line. Out of sight from Garden, and the town that was his home. Balamb was pretty mild weather-wise. It was chilly now, but nothing like Trabia. Was it any surprise that Selphie hadn't returned there?

The shore in this area was rockier than the rest of the island. Zell would know. In all his years here, he ran its entire perimeter leaving countless footprints in the sand beneath his feet. Zell wished Edea was there right then. "Ma-Dinct" was his "mother" no matter what, but Edea was always matron, or "Matwyn" as their young voices used to say. She was a guide, a care-giver, and she had been central to all of them.

It had been over a year since their returned from Ultemecia's Realm. The final battle had left them all exhausted, which was not surprising. The shear power of the sorceress had been amazing. According to Matron, in ages passed, those with natural ability in magic and Guardian Force affinity had been either persecuted and killed, or worshiped as living gods, which led them to kill those like them to ensure their sole divinity. Those old stories people told about legendary demi-gods or heroes—they were all exaggerations of people who had gotten over their humanity, and accepted the fact that there were things far older and far more powerful than them.

He'd spent months on Centra learning from Edea. It was a calm and peaceful change from the chaos they'd all lived through. After leaving her, he'd found himself much more articulate than he'd even been. People had been worried about him for awhile, but then he just dropped a few "dudes" and they were fine with him.

Frothy ocean waves lapped at the shore with its khaki colored sand and charcoal-like rocks. He could taste the salt at the tops of his nostrils. There were memories of scene like this—often repeated. Were they real? In their Psych classes they learned that childhood memories were often constructed by people using specific concrete details that may have been true, but the bulk of the memory was a self-serving fabrication. But these—they all remembered them, didn't they?

Using Guardian Forces did have an effect on long term memory, especially the childhood. It was likely that it was true though. Edea, standing at the shore, gazing out at the sea. She still did it. "The sea," she said once, "It has no true memory, but it still absorbs everything. I have tried to be like the sea for so long, but I am human, so I have failed."

"But, don't you want to remember the past?" He'd asked her.

"Yes—I love you children, but the fate of being a true sorceress is cruel and dangerous. Adel and Ultemecia were obsessed with memory. Adel wanted to create a legacy—use Ellone to alter the past so there would be no escape for her enemies. Ultemecia wanted to compress time so she would always be. A sorceress is shaped through memory and passion. Ultimately, they are victims of them, so those sorceresses sought control of them."

Zell hadn't understood her, but it still played out in his mind. There were many lessons. Some were not for him. Rinoa had been there as well—learning the responsibilities and limitations of her budding power. At times, Zell may have believed the lessons to be harsh, but Edea told him that any suffering she caused Rinoa would save the younger sorceress and others from harm. He had no choice but to believe her.

Along with the salty flow of water, there was something else in the air. It was like going to the fish market in the late afternoon when it's really beginning to smell. He'd never been a fan of fish, preferring instead the processed oily smell of the hotdog, but they did live on an island, so there was no avoiding it. Well, he'd been out for long enough this morning. How many others in Garden ran like he did? The time had come to go home.

X

In the house right next to the one where Zell Dinct lived, was an old man. This old man's name was Onaki, an old fisherman, who'd been the first one to tell Zell about the greatness of Hyne. How long did Zell really listen to this? The old man couldn't say. Young people and their attention span were a mystery to him.

Onaki had lived in the house for many years, though only in the last few had he been home often. The life of a fisherman is hard on the man, but harder on the family that he leaves behind. Onaki's children were all born while he was at sea, and so were their children.

Eight years ago, when his wife died, he'd just left to go fishing off the coast of Centra. He did not learn what happened to her till a month later. When he was too old to go out on far ranging fishing expeditions anymore, Onaki came back home for good. He was an old man with a young family that barely knew him. Those that did were reluctant to take this never present father back into their home.

They did eventually, but Onaki knew that it was out of family-duty, and not love, regardless, he could do nothing about it—he was an old man now. Once, he could stay awake for days with only sake and raw tuna to sustain him as he battled the great monsters from the deep. Now he needed frequent naps, and the bathroom had to be close-by. Life had given up on him it seemed, but he still had his grandchildren.

While their parents worked, he was there, and in time he was no longer a stranger. They got to hear all of his stories, the wisdom of his own parents, and they loved the cat that followed him home from the docks. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Sitting in his house, waiting for someone to come home, or maybe even a visitor to stop by, Onaki heard something.

A gurgle.

_No_, he thought, that was nothing. But then there was another gurgle.

Onaki, though an old man, considered himself to be formidable. Still sitting atop the pad in his den, Onaki was still. With his weathered dark-brown skin, he looked like some leather wrapped statue. Some old culture's idol of a once mighty hero cut down by time.

Years of waiting for fish to bite in the sun for hours had taught Onaki patience. There were fish that would never bite unless the fisherman was a voiceless statue.

_Gurgle_.

_Close_, he thought. And he remained still. His left arm slowly curved towards his chest, and into his shirt. The skin of his sun beaten chest was covered with scars from dock-fights, and battles with dangerous fish. It was also where he kept an old sheath. In it, an old fillet knife that his father had given to him. The hue of the blade was old and dull, but Onaki sharpened it everyday, after praying to his ancestors.

A gurgle, and then the sound of something sloshing onto the floor. It reminded Onaki of when they cleaned larger fish on the boat. They were too big to be brought in whole, so they filleted them on deck. When his own knife slid into the bellies of these monsters, and everything soft and gooey spat out onto his bare feet—that was the sound.

Yet another gurgle that blended into something like a moan. Memories shook within him. The nerves in his legs trembled. It had been so long ago, but he could never forget the horrors they had seen. Half the crew killed or vanished without a trace. For the survivors, their minds had never been the same.

Onaki's hand felt the handle of the knife. The whale bone was smooth and welcoming to his touch. He thought he heard a footstep, though it sounded like a fish hitting the floor. _Now_, his mind told him.

Onaki came to life: unfolding and rising up—slashing out at whatever was there. He fought hard.


	2. Surface Tension

Chapter 2: Surface Tension

Zell hadn't been able to stay home for long, before his mom gave him an errand: he was to pick up some groceries, and also drop off some to the old man Onaki. Ma was often worried about the old fisherman, and Zell liked the guy enough to go along with it.

After purchasing the things on his mother's list, Zell, loaded with bags of groceries, set out to return to the duplex they shared with the old man and his family. But he was intercepted by the "Big Bad Rascal". The Rascal was like a little brother to Zell, and if he failed to stay "Yo" and "what's up" his ma would find out, and he feared ma above all else, even the Tyrannosaurus that lived in the forest.

"Whatcha doin, kid?" breathed Zell, walking in place to keep his heart rate up—he rarely stopped exercising.

"Mom yelled at me," confessed the Rascal. "I broke her salt and pepper shakers.'

"How?"

"If you put beads in them, and shake –em, they make music."

"Cool—but it's not cool to break stuff like that. Especially when it's your mom's."

The Rascal flailed his arms about. "I Know, but hey!—she didn't have to chew my head off over it."

Zell shrugged as best as he could with his arms full. "I'll spot you there. Well…Hey, I got some money, and they can't be that expensive."

The youth shook his head violently. "Mom said they were like so expensive."

"Come on. They're pepper shakers. Everyone's got 'em. If we need old ones, let's go ask an old person. Onaki's home. He'll either have some or know who does."

"If you're busy though…"

"I was just going there."

"Cool."

Fortunately for Zell, whose arms were getting tired, the Rascal gladly took some of the bags from him, and they continued on the road back home. It was when they were just up the street that they heard the screams.

X

Some five kilometers from the Deep Sea Research center, a nervous and some said disturbed man was also admiring the rising sun. He was Odine to himself, Dr. Odine to everyone else. His research vessel the _Puffer Fish_ was anchored at the appropriate spot he had scouted so many weeks ago. The research center was long since abandoned and fallen into disrepair. A once mobile station that had been the pride of two countries had now ceased its journeys like a dead fish; just appearing to float on the surface. But it did not float, Odine knew, it went all the way down.

Odine examined it for weeks, and determined that he had missed the most exciting things to happen there by mere months. Powerful beings had once lived there. Strange creatures whose origins he was not sure of. He read a report that the SeeD team from Balamb had filed just after the war. They had gone down into the deposit and encountered powerful creatures beyond their comprehension. Odine was quite sad to learn that he, the foremost scientist in the world, had missed such an opportunity, but then he had made his own discovery.

Other powerful monsters that once terrorized the facilities depths were still there, but they no longer showed any signs of aggression. In fact they had seemed rather tame compared to the common house pet. Not wasting the opportunity, he had arranged for several of them to be captured and studied. He was now in control of the largest monster storage and monitoring facility in the world. Such fortune had allowed him to partially retire from his service in Esthar. President Laguna Loire understood that Odine had been getting older, and the chance to move to a less stressful semi-private sector life would do him good for his remaining years. Dr. Odine was kept on as a consultant in supervision, for they had not yet found a truly suitable replacement, and Odine thought, they never would.

When he did finally died, it would be the end of a scientific era. A tragedy that the whole world would be forced to endure. Of course if this next venture paid off, he could die a happy man no matter what. He might not even die at all, if he was willing to keep an open mind.

No country in the world wanted the facility anymore. Few could afford the cost to repair it. For Odine, it took some money, some handshakes, a few speeches, and some time to buy total rights to it. He had no intention of repairing it to its former glory. As long as it did not capsize before he was done, it would due. And of course then he had learned the new secret. The new secret was just south of the facility. The deposit had tapped into an ancient subterranean cavern deep in the ocean trench. This cavern branched out from the facility to where he was now. The secret was here.

The cost to drill from the deposit to this sight would be massive. He was not even sure if he could afford it. For now he would have to settle for preliminary tests. No one was here to help him, except for Marie, the assistant that had pestered him to death before leaving Esthar. Her family was very rich, and had many interests in the scientific community, they had helped in the construction of the camouflage barrier that had perplexed so many Esthar seekers, and so he relented in bringing her along. Perhaps her family could help pay the drilling costs once they began.

"Dr. Odine," she said in her very girlish soft voice, it drove him mad, "The probe is ready to be implanted." Something about how she said that with her huge doe eyes and wicked little smile gave him impure thoughts. _No temptation! None!_

"Of course, of course. Odine knows. Triple-check ze coordinates. And be ready for my order."

"Yes, Sir." She giggled. Bowing to him in her overly tight wetsuit. Making sure he saw every curve of her.

His eyes were still very good.

_What does she want_, thought Odine. He was far too old to be involved that way with her. He had not been "involved" with anyone for years. How odd it was to be tempted by this naughty lab assistant. Well, he thought, if things turned out good with this test, perhaps he would take her up on her offer. If he could manage it. Yes. Of course he could.

"Ok," Marie said, "It's ready. Do I let it go?"

Odine shook his head. How was he going to survive these next few days with this girl?

"Does that mean 'no'?"

"No. I mean, it doesn't mean 'no', I'm just…I have a headache."

Marie gave him a look that put such demeaning words into Odine's mind: Ohhhh_ honey would you like me to get you an aspirin?_ "NO!" he shouted. Then: "Just put ze thing into ze water!"

"Ok. Ok. Geez." With that she released the locks on the submersible he had designed with help from a colleague in FH. It was shaped like teardrop. The many fishing sinkers he had seen while staying in FH had influenced this. Like its ancestor the probe was very heavy, too heavy for either or both of them to move it. Specialized hydraulic lifts took care of the loading and unloading. When the submersible surfaced again, Odine would pilot it into the cavity where it nested.

"So…you can actually see everything that your toy sees?" Odine knew that Marie was enjoying herself. It was his fault. A few months from now, he would be happy with his success, and she would have a one of a kind reference on her application to University Prime in Esthar. Her father had an excessive amount of wealth, but that was not enough to get into the top programs that she wanted. Marie wanted to be there when the space program was restarted. The last eighteen years had been a complete waste with their "sorceress prison". Odine was prone to agree with her in principle, but not passion. Marie's interests were in the moon and it's "Lunar Cry". He could have pointed out how dangerous it was to her, but he preferred to let people learn from their own catastrophes.

"It is not a toy," Odine corrected, and he was surprisingly very calm Odine knew her plans. Or at least he had considered the possibility. A complete idiot could not have made it past the lower echelons of the science programs. He had taught most of those people himself, and the first rule was to root out the idiots from their midst. Those people could always change their focus to politics, as was the fashion.

"This device is ze most complicated of its design. Together with my colleague in Fisherman's Horizon, we will patent it after I have returned there with my success."

Marie frowned. "You mean after we go back to Esthar? You said that we were going to go back to Esthar first, Odine."

"Dr. Odine. And yes, we will go back to Esthar first. I need some things from there anyway." Contented, Marie reclined in her seat, and stared off at the sunrise, leaving Odine to focus on the tiny monitor that gave him a dark and murky view of the ocean he would master. Odine prayed to the god of his own success.. He prayed that he had been correct in his calculations regarding the pressure rating on the submersible. If it was off by a fraction, his "toy", as Marie had called it, would be crushed like a beer can off the skull of one of her boyfriends.

Odine had not been with a woman, girl, or any female for a long time. I'm better off, he thought. And he went back to praying.

X

As SeeD, Zell was supposed to be steeled against the horrors of war and battle. That was the ideal assumption anyway. The reality was that what happened was often so quick, and you were so terrified that you didn't even notice. Leaving the safety of the assault boat, and running up the beach in Dollet had been one of those moments. He'd told people that he'd been excited, and he really had been, but he'd also been worried that a Galbadian mortar round would hit him as he ran—turning him into a mysterious art display: a blackened crater, with a pair of shoes that had the mushy remains of legs growing out of them. Yet, as scared as he might have been, normal people would look at him and think he was a fearless war hero. He desperately wished he was a better actor for moments like this.

The scene that he and the Big Bad Rascal happened on was one of the worst kind of human drama.

Onaki was outside of his house, hunkered against a wall for support. There was so much blood it looked to Zell like someone had tried to skin the old man. But, there was a woman there that Zell eventually recognized as Onaki's daughter-in-law, and she was screaming at him, pointing, spitting—her expression looked worse than the old man did.

"He killed my baby!" She bawled. "That piece of shit! Someone," She looked around frantically, "Someone kill him before I do it." The screams she let forth were something that struck Zell as not human,

_Oh God,_ thought Zell, _What happened to Onaki? This can't be how my day goes._

"_You_!"

It took him a moment to realize that she was talking to him "Yes—you. You're from Garden," she said pointing at him like an accuser in a witch trial. "You're supposed to protect us—well—here's your chance."

How many times had they talked about this in SeeD? Doing things that they didn't agree with. But it didn't matter, because he was a weapon; a soldier, not a philosopher. _You don't need to think._

"He killed my little girl. He cut her to pieces all over the den. Kill him!"

The shock of the whole situation left Zell in a strange calm. He dreaded the actions that he might take. Those people, who had those strange beliefs about soldiers, would no doubt say that he failed to take fast and appropriate action. _What appropriate action_? He thought. This wasn't the invasion landing on Dollet. Not a glorious battle that people will be called "heroes" over. It was so still. So quiet, if he ignored the sounds of the girl's mother.

Zell put down the groceries. His mother would scold him for not placing a little girl over their food, but SeeD had taught him to be practical. He looked down at the Big Bad Rascal. The boy looked nothing like his nickname now. He looked pale and crushed. Growing up in Balamb meant being protected from scenes like this. Even the Galbadian occupation had been pretty tame. They'd been focused on Garden and not the town after all.

"Hey," he said, to knock the boy from his horrified daze, and it worked, "Go inside my house. Tell my mom to stay inside, and to call Quistis at the Garden Security Office. Tell 'em there's been an accident,"

The boy nodded, and ran into Zell's house. _At least something worked out easy_, he thought._ I am SeeD_, he told himself. _Be like the sea_, said Edea.

Zell approached Onaki. He kept his head high, and puffed up his chest. Hoping that if he looked invincible, he wouldn't have to harm or even kill the old man.

"Mr. Onaki, sir, I want you to be calm. I'm not going to hurt you, and no one wants to."

"I do," the mother hissed," Go, and see what he did to my baby!"

"Mam, please, remain quiet and cooperate, or I will make you quiet for your own good." She shrank away at these words, and was quiet. Zell focused on the old man. "Tell me what happened. I want to listen to you."

Onaki said nothing, but cowered against the wall, shaking his head. A red stain was forming on the white stucco where he leaned. Zell's training kicked in. He saw the small, curved blade that Onaki held close to his body. Left hand. The movement of the shoulder would tell him when the slash was coming. The good thing was that unless an artery was hit immediately, slashing in a knife fight was no that efficient unless your victim lost his nerve from the sight of his own blood. Stabbing was superior.

Zell figured that Onaki knew to use the knife, even against those who were not fish. Zell could wait for the slash, and react, or he could act first, and cripple.

The cacophony of many voices caught his attention. He turned to see a crowd gathering, but worse: men were coming in from the docks. There were hands on knife handles, and oars raised. They were going to beat the old man to death.

_Motion without thought_, he told himself. He charged.

Onaki began to rise with the knife, but Zell side-stepped, and swept the old man's legs out. Onaki hit the ground. Without thought, Zell leapt, with both feet and crushed Onaki's knife-wielding hand. Then brought his elbow down on the man's Solar Plexus—knocking out Onaki's breath and any want to fight.

Zell kicked away the old fillet knife, and stood in front of his victim. Blocking him from the approaching mob. "This man is my prisoner. He can't harm anyone else. SeeD will investigate this matter fully."

They had been shocked by his speed, and actions, but they still wanted their own justice. They came closer, until Zell cast a minor fire spell at their feet. "Trust me," he said, "I can do a lot worse."

The townspeople didn't leave the scene, but they backed away. Even with the mob mentality telling them that they were justifiably invincible, they all feared the things that a member of SeeD could do_. For good reason_, a person like Onaki might have said.


	3. Behind their eyes

Chapter 3: Behind their eyes.

While Marie sunbathed on the deck of his boat, and read some nonsense magazine about mythical creatures, Odine was hard at work in front of his computer console. So far the readings were typical. Some large marine life: probably deep-diving whales or even a giant squid. What a fascinating creature to observe, thought Odine, a real life titan right out of mythology, and living beneath them.

"Odine," Marie called, "Wanna rub some oil on my back?"

Tranquility, he thought. You don't need to react to her not using your proper title. It is all right. Just fine. "No thank you, Marie," he said, "Odine is busy. Perhaps later." He removed the elaborate collar he wore. It was just too hot to be practical.

Marie giggled and went back to her magazine.

Thank goodness, he thought, and refocused on the computer screen. Was he being too optimistic? The tectonic plate activity in this part of the world could be extreme. Sea quakes, volcanic eruptions, etc. And who knew what damage was done by the facility's drilling?

"Is it working, Odine?"

"Yes, but working is not necessarily meaning ze same as exciting."

"Sure," she said, yawning.

Marie couldn't bother him anymore. He wouldn't let her. Odine was no longer forced to constantly labor inside the labs of Esthar. These were supposed to be the best years of his life. Isn't that what was always said about retirees? If that was true, then perhaps he still became frustrated because unlike most retirees he was still doing very difficult work. More complicated than that done by people in their scientific prime even.

He smiled. All of my achievements will live on beyond me, and I haven't even made them all yet.

X

"They're all just dreams," Irvine told her, "Nothing will ever hurt you" He cupped her chin with his large and rough hand. "I wouldn't let it."

She loved this man. How long? She didn't know. Irvine said that it had been since they were kids, but that was silly. She didn't even remember knowing him back then until last year when Edea helped reveal their pasts to them. But he really cared about her, and the longer they were together she couldn't imagine being without him. It must have been love if nothing else.

During the war, she had readied herself for the possibility of dying at any moment. She still felt guilty for living while so many people died in Trabia Garden. Had she not passed the field exam, she would've returned there and possibly died with her friends in the missile strike. It was all so clear in her mind as an event that she may have been destined to experience, and there she went and survived. How dare she?

But things had calmed down. Life would be much longer than she thought it would be. And if that was the case, Irvine and she might be together for a long time. That would mean some very big decisions for both of them.

The intercom chirped. It was message for Irvine to report to dispatch. There was no mention of Selphie coming, but she wanted to. She hated being left behind.

"No," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, "I'll take care of it. You stay here, and get some rest." And with that he left her alone in the room.

Selphie lied atop her bed, and fidgeted with her canary-yellow skirt. Irvine usually had such a talent for making her feel better, but lately even he was losing his touch. She pushed her lips out in a pout, and then frowned.

"They're not just dreams. They won't go away."

The hardest part of making these admissions to someone else was that it was so hard to describe them. To herself, she knew that there was something severely wrong with them, but when Irvine asked about them, she couldn't remember. A total blank was drawn.

"You got bigger problems than that," she reminded herself. If Irvine loved her, and she loved him, then why should she be worrying? It was the natural thing to happen in a relationship like theirs. Some people said it was a beautiful thing. What was she going to tell him? How about: Irvine, I'm pregnant, and you're the only one who could be the father?

How did she end up like this? A SeeD, a soldier, and now worried that if she told the man she thought she loved that she was pregnant…he would…what? Leave her? Say he didn't love her_ that_ much? Accuse her of sleeping with someone else?

Selphie put her hand over her abdomen, and wondered what she was going to do.

X

In less than half an hour, Quistis and Irvine arrived, and this was much to Zell's relief. If things had gotten bad, he believed that he could take care of himself in a brawl, but with Onaki, the rascal and his mom to worry about, Zell couldn't take any chances. There wasn't a better pair to help him out. Quistis, in her blue instructor's uniform exuded an aura of control and confidence. She knew everything, and was one of the toughest people that he'd ever met.

Then there was Irvine. Admittedly, the man was something of a prima donna. He was a smooth talker without question, but not the most reliable of people. However, he was totting his large Exeter rifle, and everyone in the crowd saw it.

Zell had been a fan of impressive firearms for years. While he personally preferred the martial arts, there was something about cool-looking guns. The ones he had mounted on the wall in his room were ridiculously large weapons made to take on theoretically giant monsters or a battalion of men. They were antiques from a different time though. The curious property of Grandpa Dinct according to Ma. He doubted if the ammunition would even work in the old guns, but the Exeter, that Irvine carried, was a beautiful weapon. Combined with the rare "pulse" ammo, Irvine was a weapon of mass destruction. Hence he still carried a certain amount of authority, even over those people who knew of his faults.

"Thanks for coming, guys."

Even though the situation was grim, Quistis still managed a small, but reassuring smile. "No thanks needed, Zell." She snapped her fingers, and a dozen SeeD members and some cadets emerged from several areas around the building. Any thoughts the crowd had about rushing at Onaki were vaporized in a moment.

"Irvine," she said, "Stay out here, and keep the suspect safe." She turned to Zell. "If you think you can deal with it, you can assist me in making a preliminary assessment of the scene."

It wasn't the best invitation he'd ever received. Looking at the people milling around outside, he could see the looks of despair and anger. These were people he knew. Honest, simple, hard-working, and most of all very afraid. Did he really want to look inside?

"Yes, I can." I am _SeeD._

X

"What is zhis?"

Marie didn't react. She had fallen asleep due to a lack of sensational articles. Odine could care less, but he did like to have people around to see his greatness, and feel lesser about their own lives. That was how he maintained his confidence.

His probe carried a variety of sensors. Crucial to this array was the extra-powerful sonar. With it he could map the ocean floor, track obstacles, and keep the probe from crashing into something. A sound was sent out, and the computer listened for its return. The only problem was that there had been a return when there was no send. The probe had been pinged by something else in the water.

Odine grew suddenly afraid. He looked all over the horizon, and there were no other boats around. The sky had shifted into a gray with the approach of a cloud front. Strands of the clouds reminded Odine of the inside of a human lung. Beautiful in its own unique way. It had been too long since he'd dissected a human being.

There were such fond memories of the early days in their cyborg program. Only the first series had been true "cyborgs": half human and half machine. Actually, the real percentage had been about seventy five percent machine, twenty four percent human, and one percent pure energy. They really knew how to build them back then. But, Adel didn't want to waste human troops, who could be taught to use magic whereas cyborgs had significant trouble in that area. So every other model had been pure robotic automaton. After Laguna Loire had taken over there were ethics meetings, and involuntary cybernetic enhancement was outlawed. Even his robots saw little use nowadays. But, he could not lament past failures. Something odd was happening.

Logically there were very few real possibilities. It was possible that another submersible was under his boat, but above his probe. They could be tracking it. He wondered what they thought they had on their screens. A clever person would deduce that because they could track a ship on the surface, and had a moving object beneath them, that it could be a probe. But, would they think that way?

More importantly: what were they doing out here? Legally this should have been considered his territory. Were "they" coming for him? When he'd heard reports that Adel had been freed from her orbital prison, he had been terrified. Her demands, now considered criminal, had given him a great deal of creative freedom. But failure meant torture or possibly death. To have her not only active, but inside the Lunatic Pandora was…But, Ultimecia had been in control. Which was probably worse in the larger scope of things, but it seemed less distressing to him somehow. So many sorceresses. Then Adel and Ultimecia were destroyed. Neither one was beneath his boat at that moment.

"Marie! Wake up!"


	4. Out of the dark

Chapter 4: Out of the dark

Selphie slept. It should've been the best thing for her. Doctor Kadawaki would say so. However, the good doctor didn't know many of the secrets that Selphie carried. One of those secrets was about a second life growing inside of her. Another was something so vague and clouded that even Selphie didn't consciously remember it. Yet, it did exist for her.

If a person walked into her bedroom at that moment, they would see a young, and some said beautiful girl, who was probably too petite for her age, lying in her bed. A scene a romantic poet might describe as cosmic serenity. Selphie wouldn't agree though. Nor could she tell someone what the dream was about. She struggled with it from behind her eyes—something too horrible for human memory to preserve.

If by chance people could by-pass the normal restrictions of the flesh, and place their ear to her forehead: to listen to her dream, they would recoil. The sounds were old and cruel. A malignant genius from the inside of a dark and watery chaos that owed its birth to the stars themselves. Could they be true words among those sounds? It sounded something so much like fish being brutally flogged to death by sea-rotted fishermen. Not that Selphie's dream had much to do with salty sailors.

X

When he was younger he ran around much like he still did, but not nearly as far. Ma had limited him to town because of the dangerous animals that could be found on Balamb. The Tyrannosaur being the primary example.

So he kept his running close to home, and part of his run would take him past the fish market. This was one of the places where he first saw Onaki, and it dawned on Zell that the old man was his neighbor. In a small fishing town like Balamb, the fish market was where a child could go to learn about death and biology. Blood, gizzards, and some things that could not be identified were the lessons by which they learned.

The coppery smell and taste coming to line the roof of his mouth made the scene before him real. If not for them, Zell might have been telling himself that it was all just a bad dream. They were careful not to touch anything or walk over the scene. Zell stood off to Quistis' side, trying not to lose his cool.

For her part, Quistis could be the coldest of professionals. She wore a special pair of goggles that she told Zell about before. They could closely examine the scene without touching it. Operating in several different light spectrums, they could see fingerprints, bodily fluids, and most anything else.

"What can you tell me about the old man?" Her words were clear with no sign of being disturbed behind them.

"He's always lived next-door to me. An old fisherman, and a good guy." Saying that last part had been difficult since not five feet away Onaki's granddaughter lay on the floor. She was as red as Onaki had been, but the blood loss had left those visible patches of her skin as white as sun-bleached bone.

"Any history of violence that you know about?"

"No, I mean some of the fishermen get in fights once in awhile."

"And a fisherman would know who to kill or at least slice up something with a knife." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact, and Zell knew that Quistis was right. They had to allow for all possibilities.

"I guess."

Quistis turned on a recorder, and began: "Victim is lying prostrate on the floor. Multiple deep slash wounds, including at least one to the throat."

This assessment was more about SeeD command knowing what happened in town rather than a forensic investigation. Special technicians and a coroner would arrive to handle the messier details.

Balamb didn't have a sheriff. The last man to hold the office died a few years before, having held the office for over thirty years. A sleepy town like Balamb didn't see much major crime like Deling City or maybe even Esthar Prime, though how someone would get away with a crime in Esthar was beyond Zell. The place was filled with video cameras and patrolling robot drones. In Balamb, the law enforcement duties were now handled by the Transit Authority who ran the train stations and SeeD.

"I suppose we have everything," said Quistis, "Staying here too long would just be morbid."

"Aren't you bothered by this?"

She closed her eyes, and took a moment for a deep breath. "Yes, it does bother me, Zell. But, what can we do? It's done. So, we can just uphold the law, protect these people—from themselves if need be. That's it." She turned, and started out the door, but Zell called to her.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the floor.

"Blood."

"Look how thin it looks—almost clear."

Quistis turned the goggles on it, and let the sensors do their magic. She turned back to Zell. "Water. High sodium content. Possibly urine."

"Or sea water?"

Quistis wiped her hand over the left side of her face, she looked tired. "That would be strange, but even if it was, what does that mean?"

"I don't know, but I want to be thorough about this. We owe it to these people."

"We will be. We have the best technicians in two hundred miles, maybe more. Don't worry about it."

"Alright, alright." He didn't want to be here anymore. It was nothing but tragic. "Let's go then."

She nodded, and they left.

X

"So—what am I gonna do?"

Odine could barely conceal his smile. Marie stood precariously on an outrigger that Odine had extended from the _Puffer Fish_. A second, smaller probe hung from a small crane-arm. This one was shaped like a game fish, and could travel at high speeds. He wanted whoever was below them to have something to play with.

The weapons he had onboard _Puffer Fish_ were minimal at best. So the most logical course of action was to spook the invaders or to lure them away.

"Don't worry, Marie. Don't fall though. Sharks in this area can be very large."

The look she gave him could have peeled the face off a less man. It was very entertaining, but he had to be honest: Marie had shown a good deal of courage. Odine himself was terrified of the water. This nubile bathing beauty didn't just tickle his interests, but she did have an interest in the work. Could he actually be liking her now? He fiddled with his elaborate collar, which he had put back on to get serious again. Anything was possible. In a loose interpretation anyway.

"All right, now," he began, "I need you to check the onboard displays to see if they match what I have."

She did so without error. Marie had been very effective in the labs back in Esthar.

"That's great, Marie. Now…" Something was wrong. There were many displays on his computer: _Puffer Fish's _sonar, the radar, the Tear drop's readouts, and this new probe's readouts. Odine suffered through the girlish cartoon system-templates that Marie had downloaded while he was sleeping earlier. He minimized everything else, and focused on the feed from Teardrop.

"Odine," she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Shut up, please." It can't be, he thought, what did they do to my creation?

If it had been anyone else's equipment, Odine would have believed it to be faulty. But this was his—it did not lie. The depth gauge was very clear. It was no longer descending, but was rising up very fast.

"Odine…"

He looked up throwing his arms up, "Marie—Odine is bus—".

An explosion of water came from beneath her, and Marie was gone.

Forgetting his own fear of the water, Odine jumped out of his chair, and scampered to the edge of the boat. Marie and a portion of the outrigger were gone. The fish-like probe clung to its cable, and bobbed up and down in the water. There was no trace of his lab assistant. Only the blue-green hue of the all-consuming water beneath him.

There was a feeling sting deep within him. It felt like his stomach was being twisted by some alien intelligence, and was threatening to break out of his body through his bowels. For several moments he stifled all of his muscles, worried that he might lose control. All he heard was the splashing of the water against the hull of _Puffer Fish_, and the odd creaks of the wood within the boat.

Odine was completely still. "There's a perfectly good explanation," he told himself, "These things don't just happen."

The strength left his stubby legs and his knees hit the deck of the boat. A deep ache like a thorn burrowing through his eyeball gripped him. When he had a clear enough sense of where he was, Odin's hands had buried his face.

A spray of water showered him, but the pain kept his from reacting. All he saw was the dark red of sunlight through his eyelids. There were two close thumps on the wet boards of the deck. Feet?

After a moment, the pain lessened, and Odine raised his head. He thought he saw Marie, but Marie was gone.

"Odine," the name was said like a word spoken through a mile of slime.

The vision of his eyes began to clear, and he saw her: Marie. But, there was something terribly wrong with her. Strange appendages were attached to her. Some like brawny tentacles, and others were like pulsating veins. Her skimpy swimwear had been torn away, and her body was glazed in semi-translucent goo that was accented by dark brine, not entirely different than ink.

Though he could now see parts of her that he had only fantasized about before, it was no longer a matter of pure arousal. There was still some there, for Marie was well proportioned, but his lust was now mixed with revulsion. Her eyes were a dark gelatin red, and the same slime that marinated her body poured from her mouth when she spoke: "My great charity is to share with you this vision of my new pet. Do you like it, Odine?"

"Marie?"

Those eyes with an alien presence narrowed at him. "No. Infinitely more."

"What do you want?" It was like a squeal from his lips, but Odine couldn't help it.

The way she moved—not balanced and partially suspended by the slimly tendrils reminded Odine of some odd marionette. The Marie-thing drew closer to him, and peered down at him.

"What is it that you want? You disturb my slumber so often now."

The facility, thought Odine, they must have tapped into something. Once it was opened, any number of disturbances may have occurred. This was a powerful Guardian Force, perhaps. Or something else.

"Great spirit," Odine tried, "Forgive this mere human for—"

"You insult me, human. I am no mere spirit to be harnessed by you. I am a spawn of the stars your kind has worshiped throughout your pathetic history."

"I'm sorry," he gulped, "I didn't know. Don't kill Odine. Odine begs you."

"Will you serve?" Every word was followed by the slap of slime upon the deck. The puddle grew to dominate the deck, and covered Odine's feet.

"Yes."

Marie's slimy little hand touched the crown of his head. "A wise choice. You may be my apostle, overseeing my followers. You will do this."

"Yes." He would say anything to live at that point. Anything to keep the nightmare at bay. "What about Marie?" Odine still had some desperate kind of hope.

He watched as two of the pulsating tendrils snaked into her sex. They writhed and pumped. For a brief moment, the red eyes were gone, and Marie was there again.

"Help me, Dr. Odine! Please, Hel—"

Then she was shut off again, and it spoke through her. "She is my toy. I will breed all matter of spawn from her young and healthy body, and when her womb is spent, I will leave her: twisted and altered beyond your understanding, to care for my pups, until they might devour her."

Odine could feel the blood drain from his face. What did he bring her out here for?

"But do not worry, my new thrall. She's not gone." Marie's own eyes shown for a second time, then vanished again. "She never gets to leave."


	5. Visible Scars

Chapter 5: Visible Scars

Squall of SeeD had no delusions about being a hero. He accepted that there were times when people did perform "heroic" deeds, but these were often quite isolated. He was SeeD. It was simple. For now, he was the acting SeeD Commander. That was how Cid wanted it, and with the older man spending more and more time at his wife's rebuilt house on Centra—that was how it would be until a better candidate came along.

The commander sat in the chair of what he still considered to be Cid's office. One good thing about being in charge was that he could resist having to wear a uniform for the time being. He'd never been fond of them.

Once things had calmed, he thought he'd be able to convince Quistis to take his place. She knew the policies and the politics, but she told him that leading anything bigger than a squad was not her wish. "You're doing such a good job as it is, Squall. Why ruin a good thing?"

There were reasons: he still didn't have confidence in the long term future of Garden—under his command anyway. Then there was Rinoa. Her training with Edea kept her busy most of the time. Edea wanted all future sorceresses to appreciate discipline and sacrifice. Well, he thought, they knew all about the sacrifice of other people. Even when Rinoa was given time off, he was still busy with Garden business. Everything had to be rebuilt, including the political relationships.

Galbadia Garden was being rebuilt, much to the dislike of Trabia, Timber, and Esthar. Meanwhile, in an effort to open friendly exchanges President Loire had commissioned an Esthar Garden, which everyone especially Galbadia was nervous about.

All Cid did was offer facts and little quips of advice here and there. Squall cringed, but he couldn't complain when Cid degenerated into telling him that he had to trust his own judgment and see how things played out. "Half of everything is learning from mistakes," the older man told him, "The other half is guessing your way around the mistakes." Squall couldn't just step out and vanish. It had been he who took charge during the fight with Galbadia Garden. Granted, he had been goaded into it, but he was the one who said "yes" in the end. He had to be that lion that everyone supposedly looked up to.

Life is just on hold, he thought, and all we can do it is wait. I'm so sorry, Rinoa. The news from town would be anything but pleasant. From what he heard, the old man, who lived next-door to Zell, had gone crazy with a knife, and killed his granddaughter. How was Squall supposed to deal with that? SeeD wasn't a police force. They were little more than a glamorized mercenary organization, but one that he'd been desperate to join. Or was it destined? Who could tell anymore? Maybe Cid and Edea put Garden together in order to combat theoretical sorceresses, but then why all the time , money and blood spent doing so much other stuff?

The Comm. chirped for him.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Leonhart?"

"It's okay, Emily. You can call me Squall."

After years of getting up in the morning to ponder his life while sitting on his bed, Squall never imagined having a secretary.

"But, Mr. Leonhart, Headmaster Cid said to be a professional."

"You didn't use his last name," he pointed out.

"Because he ordered me to just call him 'Headmaster Cid'."

It could be difficult sometimes. "Then call me 'Mr. Squall' then, I guess." What made it worse was that he saw her outside of work as well. Emily was Zell's sometimes-girlfriend who up until recently worked in the library, which prompted everyone to call her the "library girl" because they could never remember her name. Sadly, Zell was the last one to break this habit, and once in awhile he still called her that. Squall knew because Emily told him everything.

Whenever the "old gang" got together for something, Emily was usually there. Squall could've lived with that, but one day she didn't leave for her dorm, but stayed at her desk until they were the old ones there.

It started out innocent enough. "Would you like some coffee, Mr. Leonhart? Would you like a massage, Mr. Leonhart?" How had she gotten on her knees without him objecting? And why didn't he stop it? He didn't know. And since he didn't object, it became a regular thing. He tried paying her off. A pay raise, a better room, and more days off, but it only seemed to make her more willing to do those things for him. What the Hell was he going to do about it?

"Do you need anything, sir?"

"No, Emily. Were you just checking in?" There was something so wrong about doing most of their talking through the intercom, and then having her come inside the room for their other activities.

"The team called in. They have the suspect."

She said "the team". She didn't mention Zell. Is she having trouble with it too? He doubted it. Squall personally believed that he was the most responsible person at all of Garden. He hated it, but there was little doubt in his mind that this was true.

"Tell them I'll meet them downstairs." He wasn't looking forward to it, but it got him out of the office. That was already the start of something better.

X

Renovation had been going on in Garden since they resettled on Balamb. Everyone agreed that Garden's ability to move should be preserved. The hope was that should trouble arise anywhere in the world, Balamb Garden, or one of the others would be able to approach said place to "keep the peace". They were still working out the whole legality of this. Once Cid had his wife back the point of Garden began to get increasingly vague. It often boiled down to the old man saying that Garden should "do good" in the world. Squall had no idea what that meant, but Cid urged him forward.

One of the additions had been a small jail. Nothing big or complicated, but it was enough to hold people. They had plenty of free space with Norg, the former Garden Master, gone, and a cell didn't take up much room in an area they were primarily using for storage now. The Balamb townspeople were happy for these decisions, because it provided an opportunity for labor, and small-town-specialized-economy-folk were always anxious for work. With Norg's assets completely seized, Garden had enough money to "sweeten the local economy" as Cid said. Zell had no idea what happened to Norg's "offspring". Squall just said that the chamber was empty one day.

Zell and some of the cadets put Onaki into his new cell. Out of concern for the damage he did, Zell tried to get to Onaki taken to the infirmary, but Quistis had pulled rank on him.

"Precaution rules over his comfort at the moment," she said, "I will not have one of our people murdered inside of our academy."

Fortunately, Doctor Kadawaki was escorted down to the basement level where the jail was, and was treating him as they waited for Squall to arrive.

The technicians and SeeD guards had Onaki's house cordoned off, and the other residents were being put up at the Balamb hotel. News like this wouldn't leave the people's minds anytime soon, but hopefully they would settle down after a few days. Zell didn't believe that the townsfolk would storm the Garden or something, but many of Garden's personnel went into town, or lived there. Having been trained to be suspicious of everyone, Zell could envision all sorts of horrible things going wrong. He could see Emily or even Selphie walking through town alone, and being followed by several sets of eyes with hatred behind them.

There may have been some concern for his mother, but her family had been in Balamb since the town was founded. During the Galbadian occupation, she'd been one of the top resistance leaders. They wouldn't dare touch her, he thought, not if they didn't want him stalking through town with Irvine's Exeter.

The elevator doors slid open, and out stepped a man whom Zell had admired for so long. Not the friendliest guy, by far, but there was a capability about him. That scar across the bridge of his nose had become a symbol of what SeeD had become: flawed, but experienced. Several of the younger cadets had been seen drawing fake scars on their faces. Doctor Kadawaki had been worried that some might actually mutilate their faces in an effort to emulate their now famous commander.

Zell's own trademark facial tattoos were…fake. No one at Garden knew about it though. He made that ultimate mistake of anyone whose parent was still around: he brought up the idea of getting them in a conversation. Ma Dinct was totally against it; telling him that a rash decision could only lead to regret later on. So the tattoos that gave people the impression of a wild nature about him were temporary markings done with an organic ink that vanished over time. Zell had learned to accept his limitations. Not everyone could be as cool as Squall Leonhart.

"So what's the situation, people?" Squall looked to be concealing a great deal of exhaustion. Being at the top was taking its toll after all.

Quistis was there to reply like the proper subordinate as always. "Prisoner is secure, and being treated for injuries sustained during his capture."

"Who did it?"

"I did," Zell said, "Though to be honest I'm not proud of it."

"Why?"

"He's an old man—"

Quistis huffed. "—who probably slashed his granddaughter to death."

"We don't know that."

There was a silence amongst them. Squall broke it: "To be _honest_, Zell, from what I've heard: Onaki did it. What we should focus on now is finding out why."

Zell didn't show how annoyed he was to have his own words thrown back into his face. "I guess you're right." Over the years he'd learned that he wasn't one of those people who were "always" right. Only certain people had that luxury.

Quistis gestured to the three SeeD guards; all armed with new assault rifles from Esthar. "Keep an eye on the prisoner. If he gets out—shoot to kill." She followed Squall to the elevator, and left Zell standing there.

Onaki wasn't even moving as Doctor Kadawaki administered to his needs. His lean old body was lifeless, but Zell could see his eyes were wide as valleys. They were bright and fearful. Zell could only imagine what he had failed to do.

He loved this town. It was his home, and he would do anything to protect it. But, what if sometimes, no matter what you thought you were capable of, it just wasn't enough?

He watched, like a sick voyeur for a few more minutes, and then he ascended. He's had enough.


	6. Nymphs and Tyrants

Chapter 6: Nymphs and Tyrants

She hadn't been truly, deeply cold for a long time. Going to school in Trabia would usually toughen someone up from the chill of the winter months, but she hadn't been there for a long time, when she thought about it.

After the war, Selphie had returned to her old Garden to help with the recovery. Heart-breaking work if there had ever been some. They'd found all of the bodies, or at least what they declared to be all of them. There were people who had the unfortunate distinction of being "vaporized", or maybe they just couldn't find the parts of them, so the recovery team made up the belief to spare further looking. She could only take so much of that, so she left.

She'd gone to Centra afterwards, and spent a week crying on Edea's shoulder. Matron apologized profusely for her role in the war, though Selphie reassured her that she didn't blame her. It was Ultimecia's fault. She didn't even have the bitter tenacity to blame Seifer anymore, though she admitted to everyone that she would never like him as a person. No matter how things changed, there were some pains and beliefs that just wouldn't go away. Eventually, even Centra became a place of ghosts and a past that she didn't fully comprehend, so she ended up going back to Balamb. Edea and Cid agreed that it made the most sense for her to do so.

The training center was a refuge for those who couldn't idle on in the outside world. Computerized hydro-ponics kept the mini-eco-system alive. Thick and green tropical leaves that felt like blankets after a while. Even the dirt was special. No chemical run-off, no trash—hardly a sign of humanity at all.

Selphie tried not to think of anything as she strolled through the mock-jungle. At some point in the evening she could go to the meeting place with its dazzling view. Irvine promised that he would be there, and she would hold him to it. But, she was not going to get there early, and desperately wait around for him. If she appeared to be needy, it might turn him off, or give him the wrong impression: that she was weak, and while he would love to take care of her and promise her it would be all right, there would be no way she could live with herself like that: to just be a hanger-on to him: some trophy girl, who smiled and was always sweet. She might as well be a plastic doll if she was like that.

Earlier, after suffering through the last batch of nightmares, she stood in her bathroom staring at herself in the mirror for over an hour. Selphie was uncomfortable with what she saw: a decline in herself. She wasn't even in her twenties yet, and she felt as though she had wasted the better part of her life. Or maybe she feared that where she was going in her life, she wouldn't be the person she'd always liked. That a different Selphie would have to emerge to take on that more mature mantle of responsibility.

Nothing had come out of the faucet but water. No blood, no scary goo, and no greater meaning for her to interpret. Dreams used to mean so much more to her. They spoke in a language she believed only she could understand.

All of those dreams of Sir Laguna had been wonderful. No matter what she said about him in her blog on the Garden Festival Page, her private journal, or even in private conversation, there was no way she could quite express the way she felt about him. It wasn't love like the kind she had for Irvine, which was entirely different, and based much more on realism. It was something else, something that would never occur in reality, but was so sacred that she cherished it.

Back then, Laguna had been one of those people who you know were going to change the world, but they don't realize it, because to them it's just living. It had been a different world back then. One in which she hadn't even been born yet, but it felt so right there.

Privately, she'd once asked Ellone to send her back there, but the mysterious woman would not do it. For someone who held so much power, that woman was one of the most reluctant people on earth.

"Going back is dangerous and painful," Ellone said, "You're better off if you can accept the present, hope for the future, and believe that what happened in the past was meant to be."

"This is reality," had been what Edea had said that night in Deling City. Or rather: Ultimecia through Edea's mouth. Why had the sorceress tried to compress time, and what did that really mean? Was there something in her past that she dreaded? Or, perhaps the future had just been unbearable for her. A sorceress who studied history would know what the world thought of her kind. Selphie wasn't sure if she wouldn't have felt the same bitterness.

Selphie found a fallen tree and sat down on it—out of sight from anyone. Artificial rain had taken place earlier in the day, and the wet soil clung to her shoes. A potpourri of dirt, bits of tree leaves, large plants, pine needles, and all the other wonderful natural funk of the forest. Part of her wished to stroll barefoot through this place, and live here without any means of modern living. To just be a forest nymph and know nothing but that most beautiful of realities. It was wonderful dream that couldn't come true.

X

"This is terrible, just terrible." The man went on. "What do I pay you for?"

"I wonder sometimes," he said, taking a long and quiet drag on a cigarette, "It was shit work to begin with."

Mr. Renoir, who was one of the richer entertainment entrepreneurs in Dollet, had a very specific sense of humor. Seifer had been having no luck with the man, and after a month of trying, he was ready to quit.

A pile of corpses stood between them. All of them various types of monsters and wild animals that could be found throughout the region. They'd been hacked, blown part, and otherwise mangled: the handiwork of a man who prided himself on results. Unfortunately, his results were mostly the messy ones.

"I gave you real money for this work. You were supposed to make it safe for my tourists. Now, look at it! Blood and pieces are everywhere. You even killed the beautiful Thrustaevis bird."

"It's a monster."

"It's a bird watcher's dream."

A tap on the filter with his forefinger sent ash to the ground like a meteor. If she knew he was smoking, she would give him no end of Hell for it.

Fujin had said this job wasn't worth his greatness. Why hadn't he listened to her? Time and time again she proved to be the wiser of them both. At least she wouldn't rub it in his face when he came "home". Ha! What a joke he had become.

"And you didn't even attempt to clean up the mess?"

Seifer tried to figure out what bothered him about this guy. The wealth? The arrogance? The strange way he pronounced "the" as if it had "ee" at the end of it? There were so many reasons to whip out his gunblade, and make this putz a head shorter.

"You're not like that anymore," Fujin said in his head. And she was right—as always.

"I'll take my wages and go," he said.

"You think you will get the money now?"

Breathe, he told himself, being better means enduring more crap than you used to.

"Mr. Renoir, in accordance with this country's labor laws, I performed an agreed upon service for the promise of compensation. We had an agreement: half up front, and half upon the final result. I delivered. Now, please, to make things conclude smoothly, give me my payment, and I will go away. Don't, and I won't leave you alone."

Fujin might not approve at his suggestions to Renoir, at least not as they needed things to work out financially, but it felt good.

From Renoir's eyes, Seifer could gather that the man did have some fight in him when it came to money, but Renoir had also realized that he was dealing with an acquitted war-criminal: the Sorceress' Knight.

"Very well," the rich man scoffed, "It if will make you leave." He pulled out his electronic wallet, and Seifer did the same. True cash would have been preferable, but it was on the way out in the more developed parts of the world.

The liquid crystal screen was a crisp white that stood against its display of functions in brilliant onyx—those were the extent of flourish Seifer had added. Smaller more exotic options had been programmed by Fujin, but he avoided those. The wallet was collectively theirs. He watched the numbers move—the gil-transfer, and felt a lot better. They would have plenty of money for food and gas after all.

He left Renoir, and walked off into the hills. The sky was getting darker. A cloud front was moving in. Lush greens were everywhere, the salty air coming in from the coast, and Seifer continued on the long journey back to the little camp they had made around the car that was their home. It probably wouldn't rain, but he would not mind if it did. He was "free" once again. Eventually, he would get "home". What "home" meant was being with Fujin. The warmth of her lying next to him, and the sounds she made breathing in her sleep. There was nothing glamorous or grand about it—to anyone who wasn't Seifer Almasy that is.

X

The roar was terrifying. Many students, upon hearing it, would either flee in terror, or freeze up and just wait there to be killed. They had lost students in here in the past. So as a rule, low-level cadets had to be in groups and or with an instructor or a full SeeD. Different SeeD had different ways of looking at it. Quistis would say that it was all a matter of junction and planning. Squall and Seifer would probably view it as a test of brute strength and ferocity. Zell saw it as a race, and if he had the stamina he would win. Her Irvine saw it as a kind of pre-historic hunt: man versus beast.

Selphie always had a respect for it. A powerful creature that dominated the eco-systems in which it lived. A great debate had been raging amongst monster scientists for many years now. Was this creature naturally occurring, or was it there as a result of a Lunar Cry? No one seemed to have a definite answer, and over time interest in the questions waned.

Training could take her over in an instant, and it did. The T-rexaur had made a grievous error in judgment. Maybe it had been the result of it living in captive environment. Roaring, while scary to many people, had tipped its hand. The opportunity for it to suddenly snatch her off the log was lost.

Selphie rolled off the log and into the jungle foliage in an instant. After that, a piece of bark she threw in a different direction drew the predator's attention away, if only for a brief instant, for it wasn't all that dumb when it came to hunting. However, that was all it took. In that brief instant, Selphie rose up and cast Pain on it. Even the strongest animal would have trouble dealing with that horrible spell.

The mighty despot of the forest went into spasms and flailed about. It struck the log Selphie had been sitting on, and broke a large chunk off of it. As a spell, Pain could be diabolical, but what really mattered how the caster had fortified themselves with the appropriate junctions; the spell could be far worse than normal.

Reflex forced her to follow up with Bio, Slow, and the glorious Ultima.

A smell rose up in the air: a mixture of the brutally clean scent of ozone that Ultima left, and the subtle flavor of scorched flesh.

T-rexaur lashed out in desperation with its tail, and bit at the air, but it could not seem to tell where she was amidst all the pain. It was pitiful. This was not one of the greater specimens she had seen before out in the wild. It could've been the runt of the litter, or perhaps the life of being more than a glorified pet of Garden had taken its toll.

"The glorious creator, in all of his wisdom, placed these lesser beings here for our rule and will." She still remembered the words after all of these years. Haunting sermons from her childhood that were meant to crush her childish fantasies.

"You are only here to stand in awe of his everlasting glory. Give up your lives and surrender your souls to his wisdom."

How had she made it through all of that? She drew little doodles in the dirt with her shoe as the creature wailed in agony. It must have been the time at the orphanage. Gradually, she had forgotten, but not enough to leave her without a sense that things could be better.

Edea would've had no idea where Selphie's adoption would take her. Had she…Selphie liked to believe that her matron would have destroyed that town. It had taught her one very important thing: the simplest measure of life was how one could tolerate it.

Her sad reverie and thoughts about dying brought about an Aura. She found herself in a wonderful trance that the more scientific types at Garden called the "limit break". It was an amazing feeling, like an incredibly tiring workout that left her body shaken, and filled with its natural endorphins that helped ease the pain, and were often duplicated by highly addictive drugs. When Selphie went there, she experienced a total consciousness that let her access spells she had only briefly touched, and other powers that were beyond her normal comprehension. Her arms were raised as if she was awaiting The Rapture itself, and she could reproduce something like that, but she wanted something else. What was the true euphoria?

It cam to her: the power she had simply named "The End", and she unleashed it on her victim.

The result was always relative when she cast it. Selphie beheld a wonderful never-ending field of flowers. Who was to say what her victims saw? Their ideal place, some beautiful memory, or maybe all of their loved ones there to take care of them? It always worked, and no one was safe from it.

T-rexaur calmed—its pain faded away. It slowed its movement and breathing, and there on its ferocious and tortured face—did she detect a glint of happiness? She hoped so. Then it happened. Pain was impossible as all brain function ceased and the body died. She could feel all of it inside of her own body. All internal organs, veins and arteries ruptured. Blood and a flotsam of flesh shot out of every opening the creature had. Not long afterward, the flow slowed to a trickle, and her victim's body, a mere shell, collapsed in on itself onto the beautiful forest floor of browns, ambers, and greens.

Had it understood that this natural environment was fake? It didn't matter, she thought, not anymore anyway,

Feeling so horribly guilty, Selphie walked away from the scene, glad that no one saw her do it. Her shoes sunk into the blood soaked earth as she walked. Irvine would be waiting for her at the meeting spot. She needed him now more than ever.


	7. The Future

Chapter 7: The Future

"Attack!"

The cadet was faster than Zell would've guessed, and managed to come very close to making his attacks connect. While only a couple of years older, Zell felt very much like an old man; observing that his youth would eventually decline to the strength of someone younger and faster.

It was a hard thing to realize, but in an age where people looked to high-tech weaponry to defend themselves, Zell was happy to know that he wasn't alone after all. There still were others who loved the martial arts. Several had come out to watch the sparing match in the middle of Garden Square. There was already talking of hosting a small tournament at the next Garden Festival. It all sounded good, but Zell had other things to worry about.

His opponent had actually been recommended by Nida. Zell couldn't remember if he was a cousin or just a friend of the man who was known as the "helmsman" of Garden. He looked very much like Nida: olive skin, crow-black hair, and haunting almond eyes. The young man's body was like a trim muscle formed to look like a human being. The girls loved him, and possible some of the boys too. Zell respected him now. He knew that looks alone counted for nothing in battle. The two wore only shorts as they faced each other before the crowd.

The kid loved to use kicks with his long legs, and as Zell flipped forward, hoping to eliminate the boy's advantage of reach, a solid axe-kick struck him in the face, and Zell hit the ground.

Zell heard the gasp of the people watching, and very quickly the young Adonis was there to help Zell to his feet. _A true sportsman_, thought Zell. _If only some other people could be like that when they won, the world would be a safer place._

His vision was shaken, and he felt and tasted the warm, coppery blood oozing from his nose. He was more concerned with the loosening of his teeth, but he couldn't show any more weakness. He was SeeD.

"I'm so sorry," the young man said. His name was Ken, and he'd told Zell how much he admired him; that because of him, many cadets who had previously been training with weapons had chosen the martial arts instead. A similar thing happened when Squall had gotten popular, and everyone suddenly had to have a gunblade.

"It's no big deal," Zell assured him, "Trust me, I've had much worse."

"Can I buy you a drink or something?"

Zell shook his head. Someone, he didn't know who, handed him a towel. After cleaning up most of the blood, Zell found Quistis looking at him. She didn't look concerned, but rather perplexed.

"Yes, Quistis?"

"Squall wants all senior personnel to report to his office. We have a new assignment."

X

Every few seconds static fizzled and corrupted the image of Cid's face on the vid-phone. Despite new satellite upgrades, which were necessary after years of radio-wave jamming from the Sorceress Prison, and Cid's own private communications hub in Edea's house, Centra was still a difficult place to contact, but Squall still depended on the man. With everyone gathered around him, Squall waited for Cid to share the details.

"The town was founded by naturalists who grew tired of the Dollet aristocracy. They claimed an island no one was on, and managed to make ends meet by fishing and a small cannery they built. Ironic that Dollet ends up being one of their biggest customers." Cid had a way of finding humor in the oddest of places.

"So Dollet wants them back?"

"No, Dollet prefers them as an independent town because it offers them minimal responsibility. They Duchy is concerned because there's been no contact with the town for over two weeks. They sent a freighter to check up on them, but the freighter has also fallen out of contact."

"Any mutual enemies?" Squall already had a good idea, but had to ask Cid for the concern to be official. Nothing had been spoken prior, but they all suspected Galbadia. Vinzer Deling was dead, and the Sorceress War was over, but there were still plenty of army commanders who believed in their own greatness. Even Cid, as optimistic as he'd become, had confided to Squall that he expected another conflict with Galbadia during the next ten years.

"It's out of the way and of no tactical advantage to Galbadia or anyone else we know about. "

"How many operatives?" Quistis asked.

The now semi-retired head-master of Garden let a little smile creep up on his weathered face. "Dollet is worried that their rivals are going to accuse them of wiping out the town, so they're throwing around big money to show people that they really care."

Quistis shook her head in mild disapproval. "A big show?"

"Something epic and worth seeing on the News."

"We're always here to entertain," said Irvine, but no one laughed.

X

She met him in Balamb, at the end of the main dock. The short winter days had been giving way to long and very cold nights for this part of the world. The water could've been all but invisible were it not for a few lights coming off of the dock. Such minimal lighting merely accented the endless black out beyond.

Selphie had put on a thick wool jumpsuit and purple plushy slippers that Irvine had gotten her. Had she become more susceptible to the cold? _Not possible_, she told herself. Yet things had changed. She wasn't looking forward to this new mission. What was the point of demonstrating strength if they were supposed to be a symbol of peace and stability? At least Trabia Garden didn't have to get involved.

Irvine had on his traditional outfit, which according to him kept him warm enough for anywhere in the world. As the person who knew Irvine better than anyone else, Selphie knew that this was not some mark of real strength for him. She knew that he could easily put wool liners into this leather duster, and he had a drawer full of them.

"What's wrong, Selphie? Is it the nightmares still?"

"No," she said, but they were still tormenting her. The fact that she was sleeping a lot more didn't help. "Irvine, do you ever think about the future?"

"You mean our future? All of the time."

"And?"  
He put his arm around her, and pulled her close to keep her warm. "I have a lotta hope for it. Really I do."

"You promise?"

"Yeah. What's wrong with you anyway?"

How long could she really avoid this? Their life had stumbled down this path, and they had to face it. No matter what happened, she had to tell him.

"I'm pregnant," she said in a little voice, as if she were afraid that someone was listening in on them.

Irvine didn't say anything. He took a deep breath, and held her even closer. "I don't want you going on this mission. I want you…I want both of you safe here."

"I'm going—"

"Selphie—"

"I'm going, Irvine. Something tells me that this place will remind me of the town I was sent to."

He leaned closer to her with great concern. "You told me that you hated that place. That they…"

"Yes, I know. And that's why I need to go. If I really am going to finally grow-up, then I need to deal with it."

Selphie felt bad for causing him so much worry, but what choice did she have?

"All right, Selphie. But, I want to be with you the whole time. No gallivanting off all by your lonesome, you hear?"

"Yes, Mr. Kinneas."

X

Down in his cell, a man once known as Onaki, shivered in the dark. Unlike Selphie, he was not exposed to the chilly night air. These interior levels of Garden could actually be quite warm. No, Onaki shivered because of something that only he sensed was there. Since being dumped here, he had been able to gather some of his thoughts.

"They", including his daughter-in-law, said that he'd killed his granddaughter. In the most basic interpretation of reality that was true. What Onaki couldn't express to them was that his granddaughter hadn't been his granddaughter. She'd changed. He didn't know when, but she had. Was it so hard for them to understand?

If only his old shipmates were still around. They could back-up his story. Hadn't that been what they told themselves all those years ago: that people could be changed? Onaki had no illusions. He hated what he had done—true, but he was also glad; better for the girl to die while young than to have to grow to womanhood like that. He'd seen full well what had become of people like that eventually. Being a father and a grandfather could be difficult. It meant accepting the inevitable passing of your generation to make room for the next. He could accept that. He swore to his ancestors that he could.

But, he reserved the right to ensure that his descendants remained human. He knew his forefathers would agree, and if they were all lucky these young people at Garden would agree as well.

"Hiro," he said to a man who was now dead, "I wronged you back then. I admit my shame and cowardice. Please, if you and the other good spirits can help me protect my family, please do so. Hyne had not answered my pleas."

Perhaps he felt a little better after all. Was it hope? He wasn't sure. The "real world" seemed less real since he'd turned to see his granddaughter's pale and slimy face. Those eyes so much like the fish he'd killed all of his life.

"I had to do it," he said to the image of her in his mind, "How could I claim to love you, and let you become an abomination like those people had been? I regret that you will never know love, or the joy of children, but may the good spirits bless and keep you."

Then, he could see her as plain as daylight on the seawater: pale skin, bulging eyes, and bathed in the slime of the fishes of the deep. Her mouth fell open, and through a torrent of goop she screamed: "Ph-nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!"

Onaki screamed for hours before passing out.


	8. Cerulean Blue Heaven

Chapter 8: Cerulean Blue Heaven

"I thought you said you would quit for me," she said, nudging his side with her elbow, "It's not like you're in bed alone."

"You're right." And she was. There they were in their two-person sleeping bag, enjoying the exhaustion and personal reflection of the "after glow". "It's good to have you speaking in complete sentences now. I'm still amazed after all this time."

"You know why I did it," Fujin said, brushing his inner thigh with her hand.

He did. It had been the one thing that kept him going after the war: she was truly, madly, and deeply in love with him. Did he love her back? Well, at first he wasn't sure. It was great to now be alone—to have someone who believed in him, and trusted him enough to get naked with him. But was that love?

Seifer put out the cigarette. "Better?"

"Much."

This woman had so much potential, yet she threw all of that away to stay with him. When Galbadia had been looking for people to hire as officers for their reconstruction, Fujin and Raijin had been approached with the offer. The Galbadians wouldn't have anything to do with Seifer. As a listed war criminal, his name was poison, but his lieutenants hadn't been household names. Their SeeD training, and experience as Galbadian Sorceress officers made them perfect.

Raijin had taken the deal. Seifer didn't hold it against him. No one else should suffer for his mistakes. But, Fujin, who had been a devout follower of a proud and arrogant Seifer, saw this weakening of him, and she couldn't bear it.

One night, after he had passed out from drinking at their favorite fishing spot, Seifer woke up, and found himself in the back of an off-road car that Fujin had bought with what money she had saved up. That's how it began, and that's how he began to learn more about her.

"Where to next?"

This was a common question for her to ask. They lived the life of Gypsies—vagrants. He wanted to offer her something better, but she never complained. No matter who turned him away, or who ran him out of town—Fujin was there for him.

He snuggled tighter against her. This kind of thing had been started by her, but he quickly learned to love it.

"Maybe we could go back down south. Timber probably won't have me, but there's Winhill. Nice—quiet place I hear."

"Quiet's good."

She was a mystery to him still. So many layers of disguise. The way she used to talk with stunted single words. From what she told him, it had begun with a nervousness that she had when trying to talk around him. When the creepiness began to scare people, she kept it up because she believed that he respected power and fear. He tried to apologize for it, but she shrugged it off. "I have you," she said, and he had not disagreed.

The eye patch had been another surprise. A week after they first set out on their exile, they "made love" as she called it. It had been her want to do so, and who was he to deny it. Afterwards, she lay atop of him. Her one pale blue eye staring into his own. Fujin smiled like some beautiful exchange had been made between them. Then, as smooth as someone casting a feather into the wind, she pulled the eye patch off, and he saw another beautiful pale blue eye.

With both of her eyes staring at him, Seifer finally understood the color: it was a cerulean blue. A pale, cloudy blue of the sky. Not the deep blue of some endless clear horizon, but rather a blue that occupied the borders of clouds; the rare clear skies of beautiful winter days. It was that color.

Later, they began packing up the larger portion of their camp. They would not leave till early the next morning, but they wanted to be ready. The grassy hills were expansive, and it would take time to get back to the road. Did they know or care about a large SeeD presence building up in Dollet? No. Seifer wouldn't be surprised, but he didn't care. The Dollet aristocracy didn't like to get their hands dirty. Their own soldiers had a habit of "falling back" to the mountains. But none of this was his concern. He was out of the game. No one wanted him, and he really had no delusions to make him want to serve anyone.

After packing, Fujin busied herself by cooking a noodle soup over the campfire. Seifer cut up a salad of fruit. Rarer fruits had been purchased in town, usually in cans, but Fujin had spent a great deal of time skimming the groves and vineyards of Dollet. There were several apples of various types, and a large canvass bag that she had filled with the most treasured of Dollet fruits: grapes. Dollet was the single largest producer of wine and champagne in the world. It was no secret that during the Galbadian Invasion, several Dolletian troops were not at the front lines because the vineyard owners had demanded that their fields be protected.

Fujin, a master of stealth, with a special magic affinity for the wind, had no trouble sneaking into the farms. The result was about to be a meal for them both. Some of the fruitful bounty they would keep for the long drive south, but they felt like living a little.

As Seifer focused on the cutting of fruit, Fujin called to him.

"What, Fu?" He looked up to see that they had some company. Seifer looked down at the blade of his knife. Tiny red particles from the apple skin were stuck to the blade with juice. Dark grape juice also bled all over the board he was cutting on. He didn't have the gunblade with him. It was in the car. How could he be so careless? He had the both of them to worry about. It doesn't matter; he told himself, even without the gunblade, I'm still a dangerous man.

He gripped the knife with the blade end down, and the blunt side against the right side of his wrist. He did this so he could punch and slash in the same motion. Within him, Seifer was already channeling a barrage of fire spells. He stood up, and went to approach their surprise company.

Fujin reached into the pocket sewn into the back of her blue coat, and out came the pinwheel. With her influence over the wind, Seifer had seen Fujin launch the pinwheel amazing distances. During the battle between Balamb and Galbadia Gardens, Fujin had tossed it down from a balcony, and taken the head off of a SeeD cadet. The two of them together were more than match for most enemies.

These guys look like Galbadian military, Seifer thought. Maybe they were coming for him in hopes of wiping the slate clean. They wore the classic purple or red uniforms with bionic metal arm-coverings that housed various kinds of weapons and tools. Seifer was ready to pounce, when the soldier in front raised his hand, and stopped. Upon looking at the man, Seifer noticed that he wasn't armed, and nor was he built like a proper soldier. His uniform was holding back a slight paunch that came from comfortable living. The man removed his helmet and mask, and Seifer saw a face he wasn't seen in a long time.

"Martine," he breathed, "Guess I'm not the only exile out here."

"Good day to you too, Seifer," said the former Headmaster of Galbadia Garden, "I apologize for coming unannounced, but you have become difficult to find."

"I liked it that way."

"I know. I enjoyed the same anonymity myself for awhile."

Seifer grinned. "They said you'd become some peace-loving fruitcake isolationist on Fisherman's Horizon." It had seemed like a disappointing end to a man who lost his chance at greatness due to a weak stomach. Seifer knew the war was wrong now, but Martine had been a defeated from the beginning.

"Officially, I'm still on FH philosophizing. I was never seen on the mainland today, got it?"

"Sure thing, Super Spy, so why are you bugging me?"

"Gentlemen," Martine said, indicating to the eight-man squad behind him, "I give you the infamous Sorceress Knight: Seifer Almasey. Salute!"

They formed a near line, stood at attention, and offered Seifer their best graces. However, Seifer wasn't amused. He'd spent the last year or so being mocked, ridiculed, and hated by countless strangers, and public personas. Gritting his teeth, Seifer looked to Fujin, her eyes told him to be patient. If Martine wanted them dead, he wouldn't have let himself get so close to the action. The logical conclusion was that Martine really wanted to talk.

"I'm not being facetious, Seifer. Believe me." He turned to his men. "At ease."

The Galbadians dropped their salute, but they were still primed and ready. Having lead Galbadians before, Seifer knew that they were not regular troops. The armor and weaponry also looked a little more sophisticated than usual.

"Impressed, Seifer?"

Seifer allowed a small nod. "Special Forces. I didn't have many of them during the war. Is Galbadia spending more now?"

"In a word: yes. But you must try to understand the philosophy of the generals. Esthar acts as if they have limitless resources, so we hold back, even if we appear to give everything."

"I didn't know you were such an insider. You always seemed no-in-the-know, if you know what I mean."

Martine shrugged. "I do. May I sit, please?" He gestured to Fujin. "I didn't know you had two eyes." He wasn't heartened by her gaze. Martine looked back to Seifer. "She looks like she wants to kill me."

"Rage."

"Easy, Fujin. Let's all sit. Martine doesn't have a taste for fighting."

"Thank you," said the former Headmaster, "I want this to be friendly."

While the three sat down on the grass around the campfire, the Galbadian soldiers took up position several yards away to provide protection. Seifer could tell that despite his earlier assurance, Fujin was nervous. But then again: she was often afraid that some lucky wanna-be would shoot him in the back for bragging rights.

"We have a lot in common, Seifer," said Martine in a measured voice.

"We do?"

"Yes, we're both failures at our Gardens. Victims of our names. You lost of your actions due to the influence of the Sorceress, and I lost control of my Garden."

Fair enough, he thought. Maybe Martine wasn't looking to screw him over. It was possible for people to change.


	9. Going in, going down

Chapter 9: Going in—Going Down

Doctor Kadawaki had issued him a drug to ease his nerves. A tremor had developed in his left arm soon after they'd arrived in Dollet. Zell hadn't told her how bad it was. SeeD protocol stated that an operative with serious medical ailments should not participate in operations. It was wrong, but he told them it was nothing. Zell knew that Squall didn't want any problems with their own people. A few white SeeDs had linked up with them in Dollet. Esthar had also sent people to observe and aid them in hopes of gaining some experience for their own Garden that was being built. In fact, there were many people from Esthar with them. More than one would imagine coming to observe such a small operation. But then again, who was he to wonder about it? No one mistook Zell for a brilliant tactician.

Another exchange gift from President Loire had been the vehicle Zell was in now: a high-flying plane made for reconnaissance and special troop insertion. While Squall and Cid didn't expect any serious resistance to the "investigation", no one wanted to blindly send a sea-borne landing party to a beach where machines guns, mines, and mortars could be waiting. The Dollet landing back during the war had been bad enough, but the Dollet troops had just fled, and there had been no time for Galbadia to fortify the beach enough to repel a landing.

If someone, maybe Galbadia, had taken the islands weeks ago, it would be a fortress. Zell and his team would be inserted, reconnoiter, and radio Squall and the others who were waiting several miles away out to sea. It wasn't anything harder than the previous missions they had undertaken. The time they had secretly stolen the Galbadian president's train car seemed grander by comparison. Of course it hadn't been the real president, but it had been Ultimecia calling the shots through Edea, so they really couldn't be surprised at being out-smarted. This was just a bunch of fishing village folk. Not all that different from the people of Balamb.

Snug in an insulated black jumpsuit, Zell hoped it all went smoothly. It was a distraction from the tragedy at Onaki's house, and that was a good thing. When he got back, he hoped to find Onaki innocent in some way. Even if it was that the whole thing was some tragic accident that would still be better than the idea that the old man had decided to murder his granddaughter out of shear meanness.

"Are you all right, Zell?" This was asked by Xu, who had returned from their exchange program in Esthar. Two men in matching jumpsuits sat next to her. These were some of the Estharian soldiers that would hopefully make up the first class of Esthar Garden, Their previous military experience and this new training with SeeD would eventually make them instructors. Esthar was taking their creation of a Garden very seriously.

"I'll be fine."

"Of course he will," said Quistis, sitting next to Zell, "Once he's in the field, Zell is a consummate professional."

"Yes, he is," agreed Nida, but no one paid him much attention.

Zell had once thought that Nida and Xu had a thing going on, but Xu had been gone a long time now, and neither of them displayed anything but common courtesy before. Nida wasn't listed to go on this OP originally. His specialty had become vehicle maintenance and piloting. He was the "driver" of Garden now—when they were mobile anyway.

At the briefing, Nida had told Squall that field-work would be good, and he could watch the pilots from Esthar operate their newest acquisition. Squall told Zell to look after Nida, who would serve as radioman, and that was how Nida ended up in the plane with them. He could've felt better about it, but Zell didn't really feel anything about it. The whole thing was all just an obstacle he had to pass to get back home to the mystery that plagued him. That was all.

The low hum from the plane's engines drilled into Zell's skull. Trying to ignore it seemed impossible. The cabin was dimly lit with red, which made the already weird Esthar aesthetic of the interior all the more strange. It reminded Zell of the opalescent interior shells of oysters that his mother ate. Zell wished he could talk to her then. For her to tell him that everything was going to be all right; that a horrific murder hadn't taken place in the house next-door. Then he told himself that by focusing, by doing his job, he would be making them all safer.

XXX

Selphie stood atop the lookout platform on the assault boat. Her yellow outfit didn't provide much protection from the cold, but it served her well in the past, and she considered it to be something of a lucky charm after so long. Its color had an odd sheen in the moonlight. From where she was, Selphie could see the other boats floating atop the water. Were they as impatient as she was? It was impossible to see if any people were looking out like her, but someone had to be. How could they not at a time like this?

They had toyed with the idea of bringing Garden with them as a mobile base, but had decided that it was impractical. Why put the younger cadets and staff at risk? Besides, Sir Laguna had given them a large "command" boat where Squall was positioned_. I wonder if he'll ever have that talk with Laguna_, she mused to herself. It had been put off a long time now. They were both busy and important men, but the bond between a father and son meant more that politics and business.

Selphie could see her breath as it left her. Irvine would worry about her if she stayed out too long. At least she could keep warm with him while they waited. Their late night dinner, or maybe even breakfast, would be health bars and protein shakes. _Romantic_, she thought, but _still, it's better than what Zell is going through_.

Before she went below, she noticed that the sheen of her outfit had muted. She looked up to see the moon had been overtaken by a massive cloud front. Selphie shook her head. As if she needed any more ominous things going on in her life.

XXX

They were getting ready to make another pass over the island. The belly-camera of the plane gave them images of the town and the various out-buildings. Largest of all of them was the fish cannery that was the town's source of income. An infrared scan confirmed that it had the largest heat signature. It would serve as the reference point. There were no signs of activity near it, and its location next to the shore made it a great spot for them to set up a temporary base, and radio in to Squall. If things went bad they could hold up there for quite awhile. The plane was going to drop crates on the cannery's roof in case they required additional supplies.

Zell breathed easier knowing that they were doing things so thoroughly. The tremor in his left arm had gone away, and he was feeling up for the first time all day.

The signal light went green, and they were ready to go. _Here I come_, Zell thought, _I hope_ _you're ready._

XXX

The Garden Dagger, formerly known as Loire's Dagger, was a buzz with activity. Several SeeD operatives were doing calisthenics on the main deck, while others were readying their gear. The Garden Dagger wouldn't approach the island's harbor until operatives in various assault boats had secured the area.

Squall watched as the Esthar technicians installed multiple platforms to launch rockets and torpedoes. The whole thing was a little too much for him. It was a small island, and they didn't even have any evidence that anything was going on. He hadn't even been asked about the extra help or weaponry. It was just there.

He picked at the wool collar of his leather jacket. Squall didn't like the operation already. Cid said they were supposed to put on a big show for their Dollet clients; a "show" should have limitations. Their past assignments had been modest at best compared to this. Was this supposed to be the future of SeeD?

As the boat slowly rocked in the surf that was picking up its ferocity, Squall left the deck, and headed inside. Along the way, several people squeezed up against the wall of the narrow corridors to get out of his way, and saluted as they did so. He didn't know most of them.

As much as he had been trying to get away from her, Squall missed Emily, the library girl, who was now his secretary and more. Just thinking about her made him remember Zell, and the potentially dangerous mission Squall ordered him to go on. But, should he have really felt guilty? If it was Emily's choice to do those things, then he really had nothing to do with it. If Zell died—No! Zell would not die. How could he think like that? Zell loved Emily. They looked good together. Squall—he had… He had not seen Rinoa for so long. When this was over, he was going to demand some time off from cid, and some time off from Rinoa too. This kind of life was ridiculous.

Inside his private office, Squall made the call to Cid. Radio use was to be limited, but Squall had the authority to by-pass such restrictions. After a few moments of waiting, Cid appeared on the screen. The older man must've been asleep, and Squall noted his choice in pajamas.

"Squall—you know what time it is?"

"Not as late as it is here."

Cid nodded. "Fair enough. Is something wrong? An accident or something?"

"Not yet. Zell hasn't even landed on the island yet."

"Then what's the problem?" Cid asked through a yawn.

"What's going on, Cid? Why all of this for something you would've sent three people to do a year ago?"

Cid rubbed his eyes, and then he looked at Squall for a moment, then he took a deep breath and spoke. "Let me tell you, my boy, this exercise had gotten a lot bigger than I thought it would. Dollet has made a treaty with Esthar, and we've found ourselves in the middle."

"So, what are we doing out here? Was the 'mystery' a lie?"

"No, there is a mystery on this island. It could be nothing, and probably is. But, even if it is, you will take control of the island, and hold it until Dollet sends its own people."

"Why?" He couldn't believe what they'd been dragged into. How could Cid allow this? How could he, himself not have noticed?

"I don't know, Squall. Or maybe I can't tell you yet."

"Either way, you're not talking, right?"

"Correct." He could see perhaps a little bit of regret in the old man's eyes.

Squall figured it was worth using that if possible. "Sir… Head Master Cid, I respect you, sir, but this… It seems a lot like something Norg would've done."

"I know, Squall. Hyne help me, I know. Believe me, I didn't want this, but sometimes we have to follow orders. Right, soldier?"

It had all been decided long before he could've done anything. Cid told him being in charge could hurt sometimes. He hadn't been lying to Squall then. Seed would suffer a black eye for this, but it would be an isolated event. He hoped.

"Yes, sir. Squall out."

There were times when he wondered if beating Ultimecia had really saved anything. People would always use others to carry out their will no matter what time they were from. Ultimecia may have simply been trying to prevent others from doing that to her. He stopped thinking about it. What was the point of dwelling on the things that were long since done? It wasn't like they were going to be doing anything that wouldn't be done by Dollet in a day or so. If anything, he hoped that they could at least make the situation a little more tolerable for the people.

He rested his face in his hands. It wasn't so long ago that he had just been another student at Garden. People had looked up to him supposedly, but it didn't make it a big deal if they didn't express it to him clearly. Now, he was a leader with secret leaders behind him. The old him would've longed to flee the world, and go somewhere else where the things he worried about wouldn't exist. But, they would always exist, and no matter what odd new people he met, who might even have a bigger responsibility than he, Squall would never be able to put it behind him. The past would continue to haunt him. That was life for him.

He started to think about Emily, and all the ways that she could make him forget about his problems. He hated himself for it. _Zell_, he thought, _if you knew about it, would_ _that make it better? At least I could be honest with you, and then you couldn't say that I was lying, or that I was trying to conceal it. You would see me for what I am._

The thought of it turned away his courage then. There would be no way for him to be an effective leader with that hanging over his shoulders whenever someone looked at him. He raised his face from the grave of his hands with a sudden wonder. It must have been the sweetest thing in the world to be Selphie. She was always so happy and easy going, even if she was a little ditzy at times. She and Irvine had a nice thing going on, and people suspected that it was serious stuff. She had it so easy. Even he couldn't help but love her for that.

When the operation was over, not only was he going to do something about Emily, and visit with Rinoa, he would also have a long talk with Selphie to figure out what he big secret was, and ask her if she really wanted to remain with Garden. People who were as innocent as her deserved better things.


	10. Knocking on the front door

Chapter 10: Knocking on the front door.

Silence.

Then the wind caused the interior of the parachute to flap like madness until it was fully open, and Zell floated down to the ground. When his shoes hit the ground, Zell's instincts and the training took over. He detached from the chute pack, gathered up the chute, and hit it in some nearby bushes. The other five people in his squad did the same thing.

While Zell, Quistis, and the others from Garden kept the black suits on, the two Esthar soldiers tore them off, and put on masks that went with their opalescent combat armor. A touch of a button, and both men were little more than translucent shimmers in the night. They were to provide stealth support for the rest of the team. The camouflage disengaged, and they reappeared to give thumbs-up. From pouches, the two removed weapons that were sickle and part shotgun. Everyone else had been issued basic combat pistols to go along with their weapons of choice, or Zell's own choice to use nothing but his body.

The Esthar special troopers gave pre-arranged hand signals, which meant that they would scout ahead, and check the area around the fish cannery. After Zell nodded, they turned their camouflage back on, and vanished into the dark.

_So much for us showing them_, Zell thought. He gathered the rest of them: the actual SeeD members, and gave them the place order: himself in the front, then Xu, then Nida, and Quistis following in the rear. They nodded, and four SeeDs made their way to the cannery.

XXX

After their small meal, Selphie and Irvine caught a quick nap. They weren't supposed to, but Irvine said it would be easier if they had the extra rest. Once they "went in" it could be awhile before they slept again. While Irvine slept like a bear, Selphie was quite troubled. Fortunately for her, the dreams would not last that long, as another SeeD would be checking up on them soon. But, until that time, she dreamt of swirling black water: a torrential whirlpool that was sucking her down into it. And while she feared going down into that darkness, she knew that if she went down there, she wouldn't be alone. _Never alone down there_, she thought. _He sleeps down there He's dead, but alive. He's dreaming. Always dreaming_. _And we are in his dream—his nightmares made flesh_.

XXX

Squall had bummed a few stiff drinks from the captain of _Garden's Dagger_. He sat upon the deck waiting. The latest word was that Zell's team had been inserted. Now it was up to them to make it to the canning facility. He only hoped that there was no resistance. SeeDs were not supposed to kill innocent people who were just victims of money. _Damn you, Cid_, he thought. _Does Edea know what you're doing with her "children?"_

XXX

"No one, absolutely no one," Zell whispered to Quistis, "I've never seen a town so quiet."

"It's not unheard of. A place this small, and so isolated. They probably function like one big household, and go to bed and the same time."

Getting to the cannery had been easy. The building was constructed of sheet metal and wood—nothing too heavy or durable, but the resources of these people were limited, so it wasn't surprising. From their vantage point atop the roof, Zell and Quistis began examining the town's buildings with their binoculars. It was more of a village with several outbuildings used to store fishing equipment, boats, and various other wares that such a community would need. Most of the homes were small and made of wood. The bare grain or cheap paint had been bleached by the sun and salty air. Moonlight didn't reflect too well off of them, but enough for their equipment to see. The problem was that the moon kept being obscured by the dark clouds that seemed to be doing their best to work against Zell and the others.

Somewhere out there ahead of them, their friends from Esthar were prowling about. Use of radios was forbidden until they knew more. Xu had already turned on the silent indicator to let the stealth troops know they were in position, but they had not turned up.

A gun shot rang out in the night. All four of them turned towards the direction it came from. Each had their own look of horrified surprise. The mission was compromised.

XXX

"What happened?" Squall was breathing hard from having run down into the boat's control center.

"It's a message from Nida, sir," said the technician, "The insertion team's stealth has been compromised."

Squall punched the air, and cursed. "Send in the boats, but hit the beach with rockets and clear a path. I don't want anything stopping them."

It had begun.

XXX

"It's beginning to rain," she said, coming over to where Seifer was sitting, "Bad time to start an operation."

"But they are," he said, "It's hard to believe they would with 'the hero' in charge, but the radio chatter looks authentic."

"So we're supposed to wait?"

He leaned back in the recliner, his head resting on his joined hands. "Galbadia doesn't want to walk into a shooting gallery. Let SeeD shoot its wad. Then we show them that we know what they're doing."

Seifer and Fujin had been given quarters aboard a Galbadian aircraft carrier. It wasn't as big as the warships of old had been. For one, they had no manned aircraft. A collection of heavy unmanned war machines was onboard, but the hope was that they wouldn't be needed.

The vessel was one of a few secrets that Vinzer Deling had left behind after his death. Galbadia had every confidence in it, but they didn't want another war. Rather, they had News reporters tucked away onboard as their secret weapons. Naturally, they were not to know about Seifer's presence on the boat because of his notoriety. He and Fujin were there just in case Galbadia wanted to insert troops, which were in several troop carrier craft floating nearby. Seifer had to laugh though. Odds were they'd be staying on the boat living comfortably tonight. It wasn't really about having a "failsafe" as they called him. Raijin just wanted to show off.

This had been the result of the spy-network Raijin had created all over the world. With this, Raijin had been able to tell Martine where Seifer had been, and that Dollet wanted passion of an insignificant island in the north. The island was apparently worthless, besides the fish cannery, but the Galbadia Council of Generals saw a severe threat: from such a remote location, missiles, purchased from Esthar, could be fired by Dollet straight into Galbadian territory, before countermeasures could be mustered.

If this worked out, Raijin would be a hero. And he could do it call without a shot fired or a Galbadian soldier killed. With this, and his previous experience under his belt, Raijin would have to be elevated in the military. Just a little closer to where he would want to be in order for a future run for President.

"Raijin," Seifer said to himself, "Where did you get all of this ambition and craftiness? Were you inspired by me?" Fujin rubbed his shoulders, not saying a word. "And if that's so, did you bring me here to show me how much I have been surpassed?"

XXX

Nick had been in the "service" since he was sixteen. Now at twenty four, he had seen action all over their continent. While Esthar tried to maintain a strong central government, several separatist factions had sprung up after Adel had been overthrown. Officially, everyone knew that President Loire was completely unopposed, but secretly, they were in a constant civil cold war. All sides did agree that Galbadia was a greater enemy, but the "Galbadian problem" had quieted down. The good thing about their social uncertainty had been a strength of military that they believed was the greatest in the world. Once SeeD had gotten power, it was only a matter of time till they had to react. But, the president's choice had been assimilation of ideas rather than SeeD's destruction.

Nick's own father had served in the "old war" almost twenty years ago. Their family had a proud heritage of strength and courage, but Nick was running. Luke, the other Esthar soldier, and Nick's friend, had gone missing. They'd received the silent alert from Xu, but Luke had wanted to make another sweep of the outbuildings with a direct line of sight to the cannery. Snipers had been a real problem in their conflicts back home, and they didn't want the radio-party picked off by some lucky island redneck.

They agree to meet after five minutes of quick reconnoitering. The infrared scopes in their helmets made it easy, except that this place appeared to be completely asleep. The time came and went, and Luke didn't show, so Nick had gone looking. Then he heard the shot.

A sprint, and a few flips off of low buildings brought Nick to the building where it happened. No one was visible, but he heard commotion inside. Using his CG-blade, he smashed through the cheap wooden door, and entered. No one was on the first floor, so he headed into the basement, Downstairs, the basement was flooded waist-deep with water. That was where he saw it.

Luke was struggling with several people. "People" was a loose term because there was something very wrong with the, in Nick's eyes. Some of their features were a little too soft. Their eyes bulging like dead fish.

Dirty brown water began to turn red. Even though they outnumbered him six to one, Luke had cut several of them up something horrible. Their flimsy disgusting limbs were covered in deep slashes and there were a few bloody stumps left probably from a pointblank shotgun blast. Another looked to have taken part of the shot to the chest, but they were not stopping. When Luke kicked one away, Nick blew its face off with a blast from his own CG-blade, and then joined the fracas to fight alongside his friend.


	11. Bad, then worse

Chapter 11: Bad, then worse.

It was happening.

Selphie watched through one of the monitors as their assault boat charged through the water. A cluster of rockets was fired from the deck of the _Garden Dagger_. The rockets flew over and past the assault boats as they tore through the water, and towards the shore. When the rockets hit, there was a massive explosion of smoke and wet sand. The shockwave rumbled into Selphie's chest. After that, each boat got within range, and fired mortars that also struck the beach, and some suspicious hills just beyond it. There were more explosions and more flying sand. There were no trees and bushes torn up in the maelstrom, but the most striking thing was that there were no secondary explosions seen. No detonated mines and no ground troops running from destroyed machine gun nests.

"There's no action on the beach, Irvine," she said.

"That's good. Maybe they didn't think to fortify it, or…"

"What?" She took her eyes off the screen, and looked at him.

"Or they want us to come inside, away from our fancy boats."

She shook her head. "It doesn't feel right to me."

He shrugged. "Better safe than sorry, I guess. You know Squall better than me."

The only good thing she could see about the whole thing was that with so much firepower, it would be over soon. Selphie just hoped that they were still good guys after this.

"Look at it this way, Selphie: if things get bad were can take shelter in one of the giant craters that Squall just made."

XXX

Outside, the rain was falling. He could hear it striking the roof two floors above him—it was that hard. But, where Nick was, there could be no calm reflection about the soothing sounds of even the hardest rain against a wooden roof.

Nick was thrashing about in water that was rising. The tip of his CG-blade had partially bent for he had been striking them so hard. While they bodies were softer than that of normal people, some of the flesh was thick, and he had to pull hard to slice through it. Nick's armor was smeared with blood and gore. The fact that his armor was soaking in water, and had been struck repeatedly with the crude blades of these people had probably rendered the camouflage inoperable, but he didn't care.

Luke had been hurt, and Nick could see that he was getting tired. Struggling in water up to their rib cages made it worse. Luke's ammo may have jammed, or ran out, Nick couldn't remember, he still had some though.

One of their attackers surged towards him, its bulbous fishy eyes and shark teeth coming right at Nick's face. Nick didn't even recall thinking of doing it, but sunk the sickle blade into its throat like a scorpion's tail, and pulled the trigger. The top of its malformed head erupted in a spray of red mist and gray bits of flesh.

It felt so good to tear the blade out of the freak, knowing that another one was dead. However, still more had joined the battle. Eventually, he was Luke would lose.

"We have to leave," he told Luke.

The other man nodded, and while they continued to fight the creatures off, both men slowly edged to the staircase. Nick could see the wound in Luke's side as it continued to ooze blood. They had to get out.

When he felt something brush up against his leg underwater, he panicked and fired into the reddening flotsam.

"Are you crazy?" Luke shouted, and he was right. In such close quarters with limited visibility, firing a shot gun load near your own feet was far too risky. Fortunately for Nick, he still had his feet, and another body floated up; several pellet holes were in its mottled gray back. Were those scales and tiny fins too? What was wrong with these people?

Finally, he made it to the stairs, and started up. Fewer of them were coming after him now; preferring the injured Luke instead. Some had scurried away. _About time_, he thought, _how many of their friends do we have to hack apart before they get the message_?

Nick used up the rest of his ammo to keep them off Luke. Once he was empty he started back down the stairs—Luke was almost there, and then they pulled him under.

XXX

"As you can see, Ms. Naguchi," began the currently Lieutenant General Raijin, "The forces if SeeD have begun a massive attack on the island of Port Peace. We can only imagine the terrible casualties inflicted so far, ya know."

She gave him an odd look.

"I mean, yeah, we do not know what horrible things they've done so far."

"What are your intentions, General?"

"Oh," he brushed at the sleeves of his Galbadian uniform, "Galbadia has its hands tied, I'm afraid. Ya..." he took a breath, "The reparations we've been forced to pay, the disbanding of the majority of our army, and the general slander against us. We're not match for such violent aggression."

She did look to be mildly interested, but Raijin could tell that this young reporter had made her career covering the last war, and making Galbadia, her own country, look bad. _You're perfect_ he thought, _if the people see someone like you reporting this story, they're bound to believe in it._

"It definitely seems bad, General, but I'm going to have to get closer."

"Closer?"

"Much. Your people can rely on radio or grainy satellite images, but at the stations we need it live, in color, and crystal clear."

"You're serious?"

Ms. Naguchi smiled. "I'll break the story, but there can be no chance of my being contradicted."

It hadn't been part of the deal. Their safety was dependant on their distance away from the island. And yet, he could already picture Seifer chuckling over his fear. "_Guess you couldn't top me after all, Raijin. You shouldn't have tried_."

"Let's do it," he said.

XXX

Zell and Quistis had opened up the crates dropped off by the plane. Out of the boxes they pulled various bits of body armor, which they put on, grenades with a launcher, two squad machine guns, which they installed on opposite ends of the building, and an assault rifle which Xu took for herself.

They'd heard the shots, and Zell wanted to go check on the stealth troops, but the orders specified that they were to hold their position. It was hard to do, especially considering the devastation that had been done to the beach not far from them. Had there been a moment when they worried that a stray rocket or mortar round would take them out? Of course, but none of them said a word. Nida looked the most shaken, but the young man focused, or tried to, on the radio. What else was there to do? They hadn't even seen anyone yet.

It was Quistis, who while positioned behind a machine gun, and peering through binoculars, saw him.

"There's one of them."

Only one of the Esthar soldiers had made it back apparently. Zell closed his eyes, wincing for what was likely only the first casualty.

"He's bringing company with him," Quistis reported, cocking her machine gun. "Get a rope ready for him. He's probably got ten seconds over them."

Zell set up a rope that had also come in with the supply drop. The Esthar soldiers were in great shape, but he would probably be tired from such a run, so Zell held on to the rope as well as tying if to a steam pipe rising from the tin roof. Xu came to stand next to him, her assault rifle trained, and ready.

"What kind of weapons do they have, Quistis," Xu asked.

"None that I can see, but…" Quistis made a sound that some people make when they're about to throw up.

"What?"

Quistis didn't answer the question, but she started firing.

XXX

They braced themselves as their boat came out of the water, and onto the wet sand. The door opened, a ramp came down, and Selphie, Irvine, and their squad ran out, and up the beach. Several others were right behind, but Selphie had naturally wanted to be up front. She was worried about Zell and others.

Holding her Strange Vision nunchaku under her arm, Selphie was ready for whatever she might find there. If she wasn't, well, Irvine was behind her with the Exeter. She couldn't ask to be safer than that.

XXX

Raijin had never been so pissed off at Seifer before. To be honest, yes, after the Sorceress War blew up in their face, Raijin had been disappointed in Seifer, but who wouldn't be? Raijin had given up any future he might've have with SeeD for that man. Maybe Seifer had been under some spell or something, but once he was back to normal, it was unforgivable for him to just fizzle out the way he did. It was revolting.

And now, over a year later, and after being reduced to nothing but a drifter, Seifer refused to go along with him? It was just a little boat ride—no big deal. Ms. Naguchi looked very disappointed as well. Seifer's presence would have remained secret, but Raijin had promised her a personal meeting with the infamous "Sorceress' Knight".

After a few minutes, he managed to calm down, and focus on piloting the boat. The carrier would have no chance of sneaking in, so he'd been forced to put them in a cut-down assault boat that the captain used as a private sedan. Just from driving it, he could tell that it had been ruined as a true combat vehicle. The captain had installed all kinds of personal items: luxury padded chairs, a leather couch, a refrigerator, a bar, and who knew what else. Raijin felt more like a pleasure boat captain than a proper general. The things he was willing to do for good press.

Ms. Naguchi sat on the brown leather couch, comfortable in her expensive rain slicker. She hadn't even spoken to him for the past several minutes. He took a moment to think about her beautiful soft-toned skin and her legs with just the right length and curviness to them. She was older than him by more than five years, but compared to someone of Raijin's build, she looked fifteen. He wanted her then, but the dark waves rocking the boat broke his reverie.

A woman like her was difficult to impress. He knew what she saw when she looked at him: a thug in a fancy uniform. _Well, he thought, we're gonna change that. I'll get you close to SeeD. Take as many pictures or videos as you want. I'm going to make your career, and you just might make mine._

Happier in his circumstance, Raijin drove the forward through the violent sea, the rain beating on the roof of the cabin.

XXX

While a stream of bullets poured out of the gun Quistis was firing, Zell struggled to get Nick up on the roof. He could tell that the Esthar soldier was exhausted from the way he slumped, and breathed, so Zell was left to pull the man up. He wondered how much more weight the battle armor added to Nick's weight, and came to the conclusion that it didn't really matter. He could do this, if only it didn't have to be so fast.

The rain plastered Zell's hair to his forehead. As he struggled with the rope, he had to shake his head to keep the hair from his eyes. Zell felt a kink bite him in the neck, but he tried to ignore it. Maybe later he could ask Quistis to do that trick where she could popped someone's neck, but instead of them dying, it felt good. Zell kept telling himself that it would happen.

Some how, one of the weird looking people managed to get past the barrage the Quistis was laying down. The "man" moved with a struggling gait, as if he was not used to walking on the ground. The glint of a small blade was visible, and Zell saw it sink into one of Nick's dangling legs. Nick cried out, but still managed to hold on to the rope.

"Xu," Zell cried out, wondering where she'd gone.

Within seconds, the female SeeD, who'd tied her hair back to avoid Zell's problem, was there beside him. While Nick futilely kicked at the crazy man attacking him, Xu took careful aim, and fired a three round burst into the freak's head, sending most of the skull's interior into a mud puddle growing on the ground.

Zell looked over at Nida who was just watching all of it. "What the Hell are you doing, Nida?"

"What? Me?"

Zell should've known not to bring him along. "Get off your ass, and go get the other heavy gun!"

Nida's eyes looked shocked, and he scurried over the wet sheet metal to the other side of the building where they'd put the other machine gun.

Xu came up from behind Zell, and put her arms around him, and her mouth to his ear so he could hear her over the gun fire. "Both of us can fall back and it will wench him up, right?"

Despite the situation they were in, having her up against him, her hot breath on his ear and neck, Zell found himself aroused. His relationship with Emily wasn't the most affectionate in the world, and Xu was beautiful. There was also something about the confidence and strength she had.

Zell nodded, the muscles in his arms were burning. Together, he and Xu let themselves fall back onto the roof. The shift in weight pulled Nick up. Straining their eyes, they could see Nick struggling to get his feet on the edge of the roof. With an incredible measure of will and power, they watched Nick stand up on the edge of the roof like he wasn't tired at all. His legs were a little wobbly, but he gave them the thumbs up. Then they heart a sound from behind them.

"I got it guys," Nida huffed, and then they heard the squeak of rubber boots sliding across a wet metal roof. Zell felt Nida land with a thud, and then heard a short, but sure spray of bullets from the gun Nida must've cocked before he moved it, and forgot the safety.

Bullets the size of Zell's forefinger tore into Nick, shredding his thighs and crotch. All Zell could see of the injuries was a dark horrid mess. Nick screamed, and fell off the roof, landing with a splat in the mud puddle below.

Lying on top of Xu had lost its sexual appeal for that moment. Zell could feel her catch in her lungs, and when she cried out for Nick, it was like they were one person mourning the loss of a friend.

XXX

"Sir," the technician on the radar said, "We've detected an enemy gunboat."

"That doesn't seem possible. We've seen no sign of fortification or heavy weapons. ID?"

He shook his head. "It's got a jammer on board. Look, the sensors show its displacing a lot of water. It must have a platform of some kind on board."

"We don't know—"

"Sir," the man's plea his Squall to the core, "If we wait too long we might not have a chance to regret it."

Squall was sure Cid would agree. In a time of war, there could be no foolish risk taking. "Give it two torpedoes. At least we can make it quick."

XXX

"Well, Ms. Naguchi, we're coming up on the SeeD boats right now. Better have that camera ready."

"Don't worry about me," she said, "I just hope we get some good shots in. People like SeeD, you know? The evidence has to be convincing."

"Trust me," Raijin assured her, "I am fully dedicated to you getting your story."

She gave him a smile that would have made a younger Raijin's heart melt; the current Raijin got a different sort of feeling from it, but were the two all that different?

"Maybe," she said, not looking at him, but at the camera she had been diddling with, "Maybe, when this is over, you can take me to dinner. I'm told the suite at the Hotel Galbadia is quite good."

She almost had him completely enthralled at that moment, when he saw the alert indicator come in.

"Oh shit," as he let got of the helm, kicked open the door, and leapt into the violent black water. The last thing he heard was Ms. Naguchi saying "Raijin, where are you going?" And then his ear drums were blown out by the explosion that forced him to take shelter deeper in the water.


	12. Furious Angels

Chapter 12: Furious Angels

Zell and Xu hadn't moved. Quistis had stopped firing. Maybe she was out of ammo, or the gun jammed. Maybe she saw what happened to Nick, and felt like Zell and Xu did.

The rain still came down on them. It had slowed a bit, and now made a sound like hundreds of little fingernails tapping on the thin sheet metal roof.

Zell's nose had gone stuffy from the water and cold. He remembered Doctor Kadawaki then: "_No, Zell, you can't catch a cold from the cold. A 'cold' is a virus. You_ _get it from people, not from 'nature' as it were_."

_People,_ he thought to himself,_ it's_ _always a matter of people_. He rolled over, and off of Xu, taking a moment to make sure she was all right. Her hair had come undone, and was matted to her face by the rain or from tears—he didn't know.

Zell crawled along the metal roof to the edge, and looked down to see Nick, partially obscured by the brown water of the mud puddle. Below Nick's waist the water was turning a darker color.

"Zell," he heard Quistis say, "Nick…is he?"

He looked to her, and she wasn't the ice-cold professional she made herself out to be. When he looked at her, he saw a little girl he had known all those years ago, a little girl who always seemed to be taking charge, but still cried when she skinned her knees.

"We can't think about it right now. The others will be here soon."

"You're right."

"Look through your binoculars, are they out there still?"

She did so. "No, I don't see them. They didn't even try to take cover from the gun. Why would they do that?"

"Maybe they've all gone insane," said Xu sitting up, "It doesn't matter though. They are they enemy without question now, and we are going to exterminate them."

"Xu," he tried, "We—"

"—no, Zell," she touched his shoulder with her small hand, "I respect you—you know that? I always…It doesn't matter." She cleared her throat. "As senior officer, I'm assuming command until we get things under control. You and Quistis will man the heavy guns until we have reinforcements. Once we do, we will eradicate these…people." The last word was spoken as though it was sickly clinging to her lips, and she desired to spit it out.

Xu walked away from them to where Nida had curled up into a ball on the rooftop. Zell stopped himself before he could follow her. What was he afraid of? Would she kill Nida for what he'd done? _Not Xu._

"Get up! Get up, or I will shoot you, Nida."

The stunned man wouldn't do it.

Xu took her pistol out of its holster. "Please," she said, and Zell saw her lips quivering.

Nida looked up. From where Zell was standing, Nida's eyes were on level with Xu's gun.

"Do it," Nida said, "If it's going to happen to me, I want it to be you who does it."

No one moved for a time. Finally, Xu spoke: "If you're suddenly so brave enough to die, you should be capable of getting back on the radio." She turned, and walked back, past Zell, and over to the edge of the building. No one challenged her orders.

XXX

No one freaked out when he came up on the deck. They barely acknowledged him. For Seifer, there had been a handful of moments that were what people called "quieting". When he saw Squall graduate, when he, himself failed to do so; when he realized that he'd almost killed Rinoa by giving her to Adel, and when he'd woken up in the car with Fujin driving.

The apparent loss of Raijin was on its way to becoming one of them. Fujin stood next to him, both of them looking over the rail. It was she who had told him. She'd gone up on deck to get an update on the situation, and came upon a scene of the guys in the command center freaking out. Apparently, word had leaked out from Raijin's private meetings that the operation was a "glam job": a simple "watch and see" with the media in tow. _That's too bad for them_, he thought.

Seifer didn't mind the lighter rain so much, but Fujin had brought an umbrella for both of them. While the three had once been inseparable, Seifer was ashamed to admit that Fujin probably knew more about Raijin than he did, or even cared to know.

"What do you think they'll do?" she asked.

"By now, some of them have given up on him fully. The ambitious ones will want to take command. Beyond that…If Squall fired on one boat that wasn't attacking, he'll have a whole arsenal waiting for this fleet."

"How do they hope to find him without getting close to where it happened?"

He didn't answer her, he just looked away.

XXX

"What happened?" It was difficult to make this change in point of view. He knew how to handle it when he was the one pounding sand with his feet, but to sit there in a cramped room with radar monitors and fuzzy satellite images was unnerving. He wanted to know what was going on. Zell and his team were engaged in battle, and Selphie and Irvine would arrive at the cannery soon. On his own end, the _Garden Dagger_ had destroyed an enemy boat. _Well, hopefully it was an enemy boat._ They might never know.

Loud static blared out from of the speakers: "…is Nida…man down…reinforce…"

"Get Irvine on the comm.!"

XXX

Selphie signaled for everyone to stop, and take cover once Irvine got the call. As "point" she scanned ahead for any enemy personnel, but there was nothing. The rain had begun picking up again, and that wasn't helping her, yet through it all, Selphie was confident. Using a modified version of "shell" from Carbuncle, Selphie tied to keep some rain off her and Irvine. The other SeeDs on their team had heavier clothing on, so they cold take care of themselves.

As she continued checking their forward heading, she listen to Irvine speak to Squall.

"You're going into a hot zone. Zell and the others have already lost someone."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know. Don't think about that. Living people need your help."

"I understand."

Selphie felt Irvine's large hand touch her back. Given the situation, many people may have been edgy and jumped at the feeling. However, Selphie knew Irvine's touch well. She turned and looked at him. She marveled at those wonderful facial features of his that were somewhere lost between smoke-breathing cowboy, and heavenly angel.

"What's the story?" she asked, even though from his look she could tell. For some people, there comes a point where their inter-communication with someone close to them is just a matter of looks and feelings. It was time for things to get crazy. That was alright for her. It wouldn't be the first time.

Irvine brought up Exeter, and changed out the clip. Rapid shot was now loaded inside. This was going to be fast. He reached into his coat, and pulled out two spares for the pistol on her belt. She had no intention of using it, but accepted the ammunition.

"Everyone," he didn't look at the others, but at her, "It's going to be bad. Have flash bangs ready, and don't hesitate. Our people are dying and need our help. Kill everything not wearing our clothing."

With no further words, they all rose, and sped forward. Selphie was still in the lead, but Irvine was right behind her.

XXX

A mass of stirring activity in the fleet caught Seifer's attention. A cluster of orange boats filled with divers was returning, and when they got closer he noticed the tall figure shivering, despite the blankets on him.

Fujin had been leaning over the rail, hiding her face with her arms. Seifer touched the small of her back, and she moved closer to him seeking comfort. In a sick way, using her grief for sex made sense, but since they found the damned fool, Seifer played it safe, and told her that Raijin was in fact alive.

The look on her face was wonderful. Like he had just reassured a child that Santa Claus did exist. _Oh yes_, he thought, _the jolly fool fell in the water. I don't see Mrs. Claus_. _No surprise there_.

They had just brought Raijin on board, and the man was already barking the order: "Launch all the robots! No gets away with this. SeeD dies today!"

Seifer held Fujin closer to him, taking solace in the warmth she had for him. Try as he might, he couldn't quite remember their life on the road. All of it seemed so far away now. Fate was a cruel bastard. _Too bad he can't be killed_.

XXX

A Galbadian general would tell you that the country had a proud tradition of real fighting men and their glories. The use of cyborgs was severely frowned upon in Galbadia, which was just another reason why they hated Esthar so much. Real men could wear powered armor of course, because the man was still there. When a journalist might ask about the massive spending in robotics research, that same Galbadian general would assure the people that those robots were meant to take risks and damage that they didn't want their men to take. It was a general understanding that people loved the troops, but didn't like it when they came home missing limbs or in caskets. Who could argue with such reasoning? Seifer couldn't, and he had no intention of speaking at all, unless someone asked him to.

So far, he'd managed to stay out of the way with Fujin. She'd wanted to check on Raijin, but their old friend was busy coordinating what would no doubt be broadcast on tomorrow's News. Speaking of which, the death of Ms. Naguchi was received with a great sense of tragedy. Many of the young men in the fleet were using this crime as justification for what they were about to do.

Seifer understood the purpose of this. Not everyone could flip their "switch" when it came to combat. In that case, people needed some belief to rally to: a dead person, some seemingly senseless attack, or a prior defeat. He remembered how much harder Selphie and the others fought after Trabia Garden had been nearly destroyed. History wasn't the past. It was just foreshadowing of things to come later.

Several hatches opened up on the larger boats. Elevators brought even more contraptions into view. He recognized some of the models. He should've. If he hadn't fought against them, he'd ordered them into the field. They were clumsy—no doubt about that, but if you sent them out en masse they could be devastating.

Some new XM-21 models were being unloaded on the deck. These were smaller than the older ones, and better jet-motivators meant they could fly even farther. He watched as one of them came on-line. It stood on two legs like a man, and its basic shape resembled that of a tall and sharp feminine figure. As the tech-controllers ran their system checks, blades opened up and retracted in quick succession. People called "scissors", and a number of wooden dummy soldiers had proved that to be a proper name. As the rain drops struck it, the odd creation looked beautiful to Seifer. If only they had them when he was in charge.

XXX

Raijin was still freezing, but he fed his anger, and used it to steady himself. There was also the ringing in his ears, which left him stranded in a world of his own without sound. It was bad enough for him to have to be rescued after losing his civilian guest, but to shake in front of his men would be atrocious. There could be no more defeats. There were limits to what he could do out here. They hadn't come with adequate ground forces, so the robots were going to be it. Until he could rally enough support back home anyway.

He stole a few glances at Seifer and Fujin who were content just to watch everything. _You think I'm a flop, don't you, Seifer? A pretty pretender in a fancy_ uniform. His uniform was ruined. He'd had to take off the coat to swim in the water. With his luck it would wash up for some report to find.

_Ms. Naguchi._

He felt so bad about her. Did she feel anything in the end? He hoped not. In his head, Raijin had images of her being blasted out of the boat minus her limbs; his name the last thing on her lips before the black water swallowed her up.

All the things he would never do with her flashed by. And, yeah, he was sure that someone else would miss her back home too. _God damn you, Squall. I hope I can do the same thing to you._

XXX

Zell shivered as he swung the barrel of the machinegun around on its bi-pod. He almost pulled the trigger numerous times—possibly due to the cold, but also because he just felt better knowing that he could unload a pile of lead at the freaks who had attacked them. But there was nothing. Just the rain and the freezing cold. He was tempted to shoot so the gun could keep him warm. _Anything,_ he thought. The stillness was getting to him.

A shot rang out, and a bullet struck the railing he was kneeling behind. Despite this, Zell wasn't the first to fire back. The fast rattling of the other gun filed his ears. He looked over to see Quistis spraying bullets into the wet dark. Another bullet whizzed by his head. When he scanned the perimeter, there was nothing. Then, he saw it. It was so faint, and with the rain it was hard to make out, but the cold….the smoke and steam left behind by a gun firing. It was rising from behind a garbage can. The kind of excess smoke a cheap antique gun would make.

Zell squeezed the trigger, and a held for a few seconds. A hundred or so bullets ripped through the can. Its wet refuse flying through the air. Behind it, one of the townspeople, he assumed, lie in a crumpled, bloody heap.

The rain was already threatening to submerge the body, but Zell thought he could see the gun. If they had a large number of firearms more would've shown up to increase the odds of hitting him. That left the majority with knives. With any luck, a dumb one would run for his friend's gun.

Zell checked his ammo. It wasn't limitless, but for two automatics they had an alright supply.

Another burst was fired by Quistis, and a gurgling scream cast out through the water-filled air. When Zell looked at her, she gave him a thumbs up.

Xu walked over to Zell from where she'd been watching Nida fiddle with the radio. She scanned Zell's perimeter with the thermal scope on her rifle. After not coming up with anything, she spoke to him: "They'll be here soon. Then we won't be hiding out on this tin can."

"I want to get Nick's body," he said it in a way to let her know it wasn't just a sentiment.

"We will. Both of them will be taken home. I'm going to nominate them both for medals from Garden. Maybe President Loire will issue some too."

_Medals won't bring them back to life_, he thought, _even the best items and magic_ _had limits_. _Besides for most high end effect spells to work it helped if the person was_ _junctioned to a Guardian Force, which would provide them with more durability and_ _cooperation with magic_. Nick and Luke had no Guardian Forces.

Now nothing would. Zell had no doubt that Squall and his special connection to President Loire would find some way to honor their dead Esthar soldiers. Dead soldiers were often even more valuable than living ones. They gave the folks back home a legitimate reason to send more soldiers into combat. So, of course, Nick would be honored. It was well worth the investment.

Xu hit his shoulder. "Focus, Zell. We're not there yet."

He was about to comment on the stillness, when they both heard the sound.

XXX

Selphie was covered in blood. They had just gotten within a thousand yards of the cannery when they were hit. It was a failure on her part, but to be fair: the attack had come from behind and above them.

She flailed her giant nunchaku about. Striking the armored body of their attacker, and then ducked as Irvine poured ammo into it. Unfortunately, the rapid shot worked best against live creatures without metal armor. While scores of dents covered the mechanical terror, it showed no signs of being slowed down. Hopefully, Irvine would find a moment to load something heavier.

As Selphie tumbled about, trying to dodge intermittent plasma fire from the robot, she nearly tripped over the body of the boy. That's what he was really—two years her junior and fresh from Balamb's training course. He'd been so foolish. He must've seen the machine first—it had been aiming at her. And this boy, perhaps he had a crush on her, or maybe he just fell into that sand trap called "chivalry", had knocked her down, and jumped in front of the mech.

She realized this later. While she'd been on the ground, there'd been confusion, and then a massive basting of warm, coppery slick all over her, and something like a sack of potatoes hit her back. The boy had been cut in half over her. She had screamed, the young man's in her eyes.

Irvine had cried out. He probably thought she'd been killed too, given the amount of blood, but she'd been spared. _That fool_, she thought of the boy, _you didn't have to die._ _Did it ever occur to you that I was supposed to die?_ It was possible, but she would never know.

Irvine shouted another warning to her, and she rolled forward on the wet-packed sand, and then came up with another swipe with the Strange Vision, but this time she channeled a lightning spell through the weapon, and when it struck the strange and nubile robot was slowed by the surge of electricity. The other SeeDs continued firing, and out of the corner of her eye, she spied Irvine finish loading Exeter. His next shot burned a hole clean into the mechanical femme. It fought for a few seconds more, and then doubled over with malfunctions. Three more shots of AP ammo, and it ceased all movement and sparking. In death, its blades struck out like a desperate porcupine. Blood from the unfortunate SeeD still glazed their edges.

"Everyone, ok?" Irvine asked.

Selphie looked down at what remained of the boy. "Yeah," she said, "I guess."

More engines were heard overhead. They were just getting started after all. There were still plenty of opportunities for her to die. She had to test them, before she would accept that her destiny was to be a mother to anyone.

"We gotta get out of the open, guys," Irvine said, "Let's beat it to the cannery."

XXX

Onboard _Garden Dagger_, Squall buried his face in his hands. Here it was: the situations he and Cid had been dreading. He had every confidence possible in Zell and the others. But, he also knew that Galbadia would want to make a point. Their rumored military build-up would be evident now. Squall had resigned himself to a display, but this would be a stretch.

"Nothing our way?"

"No, Sir."

If the mechs had been launched at their fleet, small as it was, the big guns and missiles could've handled it. But, to launch them to the island…

"Galbadian position?"

"Their pulling back. They don't have to be nearby to use their mechs."

"Take everyone closer to the island. All weapons ready."

Anything could happen but he didn't want people to say that he hadn't tried.

XXX

"Is it hard not being there?" she asked him.

"I don't know anymore to be honest, Fu."

She turned away from him. "He's going to try and kill them all, isn't he?"

The fleet was slowly taking them away from the scene, but in the distance they could see the orange blossoms of explosions and the baby blue light flashes of plasma fire.

"Who should we pity more, Fujin?"


	13. Listing

Chapter 13: Listing

Zell's gun ran dry right after he felled another assault mech into the growing mud puddle below. He ditched the gun, and ran for their supply pile. With the Mechs attacking them, he hoped to find the grenade launcher. They'd been lucky to have had the heavier fire power, even if it didn't last. Individual bullets dented the armor, but a constant stream would eventually overwhelm them and burn through. In response to this, the robots, Galbadian from their make, began firing plasma.

The roof of the cannery was covered in charred holes. It might have been destroyed completely, but the thick rain and its puddles were absorbing a good deal of the heat. As a result a massive cloud of steam was rising over the building. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Zell was warm, but it wasn't all that comforting.

The gun that Quistis was firing ran out. Xu and Nida took over with the smaller arms. Zell found the launcher, and went to work on the machines that were farther away. He couldn't chance using it near his friends for fear of shrapnel. They would just have to make due.

In the distance they heard heavy gunfire that was familiar to Zell. He had heard it so many times in the past: it Irvine's Exeter. The others were on the way. The night might just last a little longer.

XXX

Being on foot gave them the advantage of versatility. The Galbadian war-mechs tried to hang in the air as long as they could, and preferred targeting one large space at a time. Irvine told them to form themselves up as a kind of organized chaos. So, Selphie and the other members led the machines everywhere, all the while giving Irvine the opportunity to hit them with the devastating AP ammo. Selphie wondered if he would sacrifice some of the ultra rare Pulse ammo, but so far he hadn't even reached for it in consideration. Refining it demanded very rare crystals that they had spent untold hours looking for during their adventure a year ago.

The other SeeDs focused their fire on specially picked targets to get their attention, while Selphie did her best to cover everyone with her magic. Rain water had cleaned most of the blood off her, though some of it had run further down her dress and onto her body. Despite the abstract chaos going on all about them, Selphie could think only of showering back home. Maybe even a bath with herbal salts to rinse off the grime and the coppery scent of blood.

That fantasy was the total antithesis to this moment. There in the rain, if someone could wear her head as a mask and look through her eyes it would be difficult to discern meaning. Constant flashing from plasma fire, and Irvine's gun burned her eyes. Every time the Exeter fired she felt the thud against her heart like thunder knocking on the front door. She was constantly turning her head—searching, hoping to be one step ahead of the machine that would kill her. She heard someone screaming in a rage, and then Selphie realized that it was her.

Several robots had been destroyed, and they heard frequent explosions and small arms fire coming from the cannery. Hopefully, Zell and the others were doing well. As their numbers lessened, the automatons increased their ferocity. The smaller ones, that had something strangely feminine about them, were using their larger and clunkier predecessors as "human" shields from Irvine's shots. For this reason, the other SeeDs had to increase their fire to get the deadlier ones put into in the open. Selphie applied whatever lightning-based magic she could, but she was getting tired, and soon the others SeeDs would be out of ammo.

Irvine signaled for her and the others to keep edging towards the cannery. With more SeeD present they might stand a better chance.

XXX

Squall was encouraged to remain onboard the command ship. His various subordinates assured him that he was more valuable in a rear position for the operation. A group of Esthar Special Forces soldiers in their alien-looking armor boarded two small incursion rafts. Squall offered them an assault boat, but they politely refused. Word had spread of casualties on the island, and these troops were not used to waiting to find out who died. Amongst their number were two new issue cyborgs that were brimming with armament. They almost made Squall wish that more countries in the world made them, but then again from the stories he'd heard it was probably for the best that they were relegated to the status of rumor in the wider world.

They were terrifying. In all the battles he'd fought against things that looked like soldiers, he'd always been able to estimate some weakness. These things were like men of iron.

Other SeeD assault boats rushed to the shoreline. This was inexcusable for the Galbadians to have done. The general consensus amongst the major countries had been to avoid further conflict following the last Sorceress War. Yet, Galbadia had continued to support obstinate hard-liners that couldn't tolerate the notion of the country not expanding and becoming even greater than it was. They always had to be the best.

Squall made his way back to Command-Control. Victory would demand tenacity. To honest, he hadn't liked this errand from Cid. Sure, Garden did moonlight as a mercenary organization, and according to the Law of Contracts and Obligations they were bound to do what Dollet asked for. It was imperialism for hire, as Rinoa would have said. He wouldn't deny it. But now, things had changed. When he ordered that boat torpedoed and his teams to land things had been complicated. There was no clean enemy. Now, Galbadia had retaliated in a way that would re-magnify their previous aggression.

Cid taught Squall many things that he hadn't understand until that moment. At some point, even the most convoluted maneuvering and intrigue degenerated into a basic "us versus them". Squall really had to thank the Galbadian commander, whoever he was. Simple was something that he worked well with.

XXX

Once the pieces had been put into play, Raijin had some time to relax. He'd resisted for some time, but the captain of his carrier told him that the men would be reassured of their superiority if their commander once again looked the part. For a moment he felt like striking the captain, but he realized that the man was right. Raijin didn't have all the answers he thought he once did. The captain agreed to command the fleet while Raijin "refreshed."

In his private quarters, Raijin caught a hot shower, and put on a fresh uniform. The effect was instantaneous: he felt powerful again. He took a moment to admire himself in the bathroom mirror. Sometimes he forgot that he was still young. Most men in his position struggled for twenty five years to get where he was. With so much achievement under his boots he should've been giving himself a little more patience. At the same time he was equally concerned about growing soft. It was a certainty that Seifer would be watching, and that drove Raijin to strengthen his resolve.

In the mirror in front of him was a man who'd risen to an amazing height in no time. As much as he might tense his eyes to make himself portray a sterner visage, it wasn't a natural feeling for him. Instead his eyes were wide with a kind of awe that they had journeyed so far with this man.

Once, Fujin told had told him that he had old eyes that looked like they'd grown weary of the world. He wasn't sure what that meant. He wanted to ask her that back then, but then she left with Seifer. What was she to their old friend now? It was far too complicated for his liking.

Raijin smiled at himself in the mirror, just as there was a rumble, and then something like an earthquake drove his face into the glass in front of him.

XXX

Seifer's ribcage strained against the pain. He was leaning out over the rail on the carrier's superstructure. Beneath him were the dark and hungry waters of the ocean. Fujin dangled above it, clinging to his left hand.

"Seifer! Please!"

This was his weaker arm, so he used the rest of his body as a weight-anchor, not confident in his ability to pull her up.

"Seifer! Focus!"

"You have to help me, Fu."

"Are you saying I'm heavy?"

He almost laughed, but the pain in his chest caused him to choke. "I may have cracked my ribs when I hit the rail." He closed his eyes trying to center himself. He regretted spacing out most of the time during their meditation class at SeeD. They'd been designed to help the students cope with pain, stress, and fear. Seifer relied on his strength, and "presumed" toughness. It was amazing what a person could so when they were worried that people will think they were weak. This was a belief that was at the heart of the old Disciplinary Committee. Seifer wondered if it still consumed Raijin. He'd seen his old friend's eyes when they brought him back on board. _Poor Raijin_, he thought, _what will you think tomorrow when you look in the mirror and realize that you were out fought_ _by SeeD?_

_Alright_, he told himself, _time to put the pain away, and do this_. He strained, pulling Fujin up. Fortunately, the carrier began listing in the opposite direction, probably because the lower decks were completely filled with water. Either way, it helped Seifer pull _his_ woman up to safety.

She didn't say anything, but held him close. It was one of those feelings for which there are no words worth describing it. He wished they could stay like that for a moment longer, but the attack from SeeD had left the ship a sinking giant. Some of the other naval vessels were speeding towards them to help, but Seifer could see that most of the larger ships were wrecked as well.

"It must have been a whole school of torpedoes. We should congratulate Squall. Tomorrow morning, Galbadia will be in a panic."

"We have to find Raijin," she said.

"He might be dead already, Fu."

"Seifer…" She looked at him. Her blue eyes drilling into his the way that she knew would work on in. How many nights had they just looked into him? Seifer knew that no matter what, Raijin was always going to be a part of their life. Some things just were not that as simple as he wanted.

"I'll try, Fujin, but only after you get on one of the other boats."


	14. Humanity

Chapter 14: Humanity

It was a contest of metals. The mechs, which while in fewer numbers as the assault went on, were growing in their brutal tenacity. Their metallic bodies were riddled with dents and shallow holes from all of the shots fired by Zell and the others SeeDs on the roof of the cannery. There were only a few shots left in the grenade launcher, and the robots seemed to understand Zell's hesitation to fire when they were so close to him and the others. That left Xu, Quistis, and Nida to keep firing with the less effective small arms.

Even Quistis, who was so accurate with every single shot, was only making the smallest of dents with bullets that would normally devastate living foes. The SeeDs began to long for the attacks of the deformed townspeople. It made sense for flesh to battle flesh. Flesh made flesh, so of course it should unmake it. To have the cold touch of metal involved was somehow improper to Zell, who being a devout practitioner of the martial arts, saw even guns as morally wrong—even if they were necessary sometimes.

The rain began trickling to a slow halt till all it seemed to be were the drippings of great wet towels hanging in the sky. How long did they believe that they could do things the easy way? Technology had spoiled them utterly. Zell passed the grenade launcher to Xu. She was a better aim than he was anyway. For him, there was little excuse for falling into such a state.

He thought about the young kid named Ken—the one who had knocked him flat on his back. It wasn't the difference in age that had beaten Zell that day. That kid had simply believed in himself more than Zell did. If Sensei Takatori could see him now, the old woman would be ashamed. _I'm sorry_, he told her, _your student has forgotten his way in this world. _

"Zell, what's wrong?" Quistis put her had on him; concerned that he had given up entirely.

"Nothing," he said, "I know exactly what I have to do."

Before Quistis could object, Zell took off running across the wet metal of the cannery's rooftop.

Nida cried out in despair that Zell left the rest of them, but Zell could pay him no heed. What he needed was a focus beyond anything they could understand. Part of his mind was back on the beach years ago with the Sensei. But instead of fighting wooden dummies, he had to face machines.

_They're the same thing_, he told himself, _only these dummies can move. But that shouldn't deter you from the course. You are SeeD._

He wasn't halfway across the roof before they were after him. The baby blue plasma balls flew, turning puddles into hot vapor in front of him. Zell dodged from side to side. Flipped back. Flipped forward. There was no thinking about it. Not even when the searing hot metal threatened to burn off his finger tips. Nothing was going to stop him. If he died, then he died. There wouldn't be an opportunity to lament it.

A grenade whizzed past his ear, and struck a mech readying another barrage He'd been right to give the launcher to Xu. Some risks were worth it, and as a leader, she knew he'd made the choice.

The Galbadian robots, their artificial intelligence making the proper correlations, ceased long range attacks. One of the strange ones with a feminine form closed in. Blades unfolded from so many impossible locations. Zell dodged and rolled, hearing the mech's blades slice into the metal roof. The night brightened and water hissed as sparks flew.

It was faster than he'd counted on, and for a moment he questioned his decision. Believing it may have been a case of foolish bravado whose price would be his severed carcass.

But that didn't happen.

A volley of thunder spells struck the mech from behind. Zell didn't have time to see who did it. He realized it was his chance.

Zell few into a combo. His armored boots and gloves striking with all that they had. The armor of the robot was strong against a direct assault to its vitals: the power supply and the CPU. Zell had faced many machines before, and knew what they looked like when blown or hacked apart. The power core would be in its chest where the most armor was, and the CPU would be just a little above that in the same cavity. It couldn't be right next to the power supply because of the heat. Knowing all of this, Zell struck its joints: hips and ankles—or what passed for them on the mech.

After the beating, which left his hands and feet numb, Zell cast his own thunder spell. The mech ceased struggling. Zell relaxed, and slumped a little—only to fall back as the blades came out a final time. One of them slicing open the surface flesh of his chest.

Lying on the roof, Zell shook from the shock. His chest grew very warm. He rested on his back for a moment. Not entirely sure what happened. Uncertain that he was still alive. There was pain—somewhere, but distant, and so much warmth. He felt like rolling up in that warmth and falling asleep.

They surrounded him then. Three sets of eyes that he felt sure that he knew. Those eyes were filled with worry and so much dripping water.

"Zell," one of them said quietly to him, "Are you okay?"

"Don't speak," said another, "Just blink your eyes to let us know."

"We need those reinforcements," said a strong feminine voice, "Where are they?"

Globs of plasma scorched the roof a few yards away. Zell's guardians spun as one, and fired their remaining ammo at the mech that Zell couldn't see. From the sound of it, one of Xu's remaining grenades connected. Zell heard the distant impact on the muddy ground below.

Quistis hovered over him. She gingerly examined the cut on his chest; careful not to prod too harshly lest she open him up like a torn bag. "I think it's not fatal, but we need to get him out of here."

Zell sat up, and by the look on their faces he was pretty sure that the three of them were close to having heart attacks.

"I'll be fine," he told them, "A healing spell and a potion will patch me up until we get back to the boat."

Quistis took care of it.

"If you are all right," said Xu, brushing her wet hair out of her face, and offering him a smile, "Then we should get back to work."

"I couldn't agree with you more."

"More of them," screamed Nida, "From all sides!"

XXX

Getting her aboard one of the smaller boats had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Fujin wasn't accepting of anything he said—not anymore anyway. Perhaps that had been the consequence of getting so close to her. Before, as part of his Disciplinary Committee, Fujin had been a dedicated follower. It wasn't like that anymore. They were mutual partners in something they weren't sure what to call. He suspected it was more like a seventy/thirty relationship with her cool logic filling in a lot for the spontaneous drive that he could still muster. No the worst of relationships. He had the sneaking suspicion that it was superior to the so-called romance enjoyed by Squall and Rinoa. But, that didn't matter. Not when life was about to be sucked down into the dark water below them.

Ultimately, he forced her on the recovery boat with his best lie that Raijin was all right. What his lips didn't utter was that he had severe doubts as to his own safety by staying on the sinking carrier. Who was the say that Squall wouldn't follow up his torpedoes with rockets? If the Garden commander was this trigger happy…

Bracing himself against the walls that were titled at on odd angle, Seifer made his way below deck. He wasn't exactly sure where Raijin would be, but figured that if he made his way near yet under the superstructure, he would find he officer's quarters. They wouldn't want to be far away in case of an emergency.

_Like this one_, he thought.

The ship lurched even further making him smack the wall. He bit his lip, and tasted blood. It was going to be a Hell of a way to end his day.

XXX

On board _Garden's Dagger_, Squall Leonhart was thinking about Rinoa. About how her black and silky hair felt when it passed through his fingers. The smell it had no matter how haggard she might look. She was the meaning of perfection for him. What was she going to think about his decision?

He'd done his best to be forceful. There could be no allowance for doubt to slip into the minds of his subordinates. Especially the ones on board. The others, his friends from the orphanage, well, they would understand, and just chalk-it-up to his nature.

Cid said Dollet wanted a "big show". Well, they got it tonight. In the morning, there would be no end to criminalizing from Galbadia—for who else could it be? He wondered about the small craft they'd fired on. Had those soldiers been ready to die? Probably not, and for that he was sorry.

He walked the narrow corridors to his quarters. He would splash some water on his face to cool down. But, he reminded himself to dry off completely with a towel. He didn't need anyone believing that he'd been crying. And he would confess to no one how much he felt like doing so. He couldn't stand that on a whole other continent was a woman whom he needed, and without her, he couldn't do this stuff anymore.

When he opened the door, a wave of nausea brought him to his knees. He clenched his fists, and steadied himself. It couldn't be nerves. He'd been through worse. No amount of easy living or stress could reduce him to this sorry state.

His ears rung as they filled with a pressure. Squall shook. When his ears popped it was an agonizing relief. Like his head had been a blister, and his brain had just popped out to coat his room in its rotting taint.

He collapsed utterly.

Several minutes passed by without him realizing it. There was no "him" anymore, just a numb existence of nothing. When awareness began to drift back into Squall, he found himself drooling on the rug in his quarters.

It was so hot. Opening a window and leaping out into the churning water was so inviting. To give into that would spell the end for him, but at that moment he wouldn't have minded.


	15. Machines My Brother!

Chapter Fifteen: Machines—My Brother!

If anyone asked her to describe the scene, she would have to take a long moment to consider every other time she had pumped her burning legs in the vicious throes of combat. Often there was a sense of muddled euphoria caused by drawing or casting. When a person drew a spell or a Guardian Force from another being, they were completely joined for the briefest of moments. Then, once a spell was cast or a Guardian Force summoned, a person could become lost in the expelling of such power. It took time and a great deal of discipline for a cadet to even call forth power without falling into an orgasmic coma.

There were other people who sought that feeling to begin with. People like that had given a bad name to the art of magic. Such a thing may have happened to the sorceresses at some point, but Selphie didn't know. As a trained caster, Selphie knew about the pleasure, but then there was the pain associated with other spells. These were the distractions that she had to deal with. Those and the overwhelming sense that another blade-wielding robot would slice her in half. That would ruin her outfit and her day completely.

Fortunately, the remaining mechs seemed bent on racing them to the other SeeD team. It eased the immediate pressure on her own team, but she worried at the significance: how were Zell and the others? The plane had dropped a good load of supplies for a scout team—too much by most accounts. But her ears didn't catch the continuous rain of fire she'd heard earlier. Quistis and Xu were there though. Those two were the best that SeeD had to offer.

They made it to the cannery wall after dodging a minefield of destroyed mechs and odd crumpled forms in the water. Civilians from their clothing, she noticed. However, there was something wrong with them. Their eyes were bulging and there were other facial deformities that gave them a bloated, squishy-soft appearance. Some of their fingers were too long, and some hands were not hands, but flippers. Reason wanted her to believe it could be a town founded by a host of physically-deformed people wanting to keep to themselves. She remembered something to that effect in the briefing, but Cid hadn't said anything about…it was all too uncomfortable for her to put words or thoughts to it. As though humanity itself had no ability to do so.

Somewhere inside the packrat tangle of her brain, Selphie felt the need to sit down next to the bodies. To speak with them now that their time on the land had come to an end. Did they want to be put to sea as they should have been? She would put them there. Hold them afloat until the water once again took to their limbs, and they sailed down to be at that wonderful place in the dark where He was all and for all time.

_Wait…what am I thinking? What's wrong with me?_

A strong hand seized her shoulder. Selphie screamed, and tried to lash out with her nunchaku, but her attacker was too close, and prevented her spinning swing.

"Selphie—it's me! What's wrong with you?"

She stopped. Calm flooded back into her. She knew that voice—it was Irvine. Her Irvine.

She hugged him with one arm; the other was still nervously clutching her Strange Vision. The feeling that she was about to be struck down was too great for her to abandon all precaution. Her body tensed against Irvine's. She knew it was only a matter of time. The little life growing inside of her didn't mean that she was going to live a long time to see it grow up. Her own childhood hadn't been so safe. This could've been a glimpse at the very crux of their future life together: a hesitation to let go of all the jittery paranoia that kept people like them alive like nervously-wrecked forest creatures.

Selphie told him that she was sorry. That she could've gotten everyone killed, and she knew that was her fault.

"It was only for a few moments," he said, "Things are going to be all right." He pointed, and her eyes followed to notice a flurry of movement behind them.

Two Estharian cyborgs were bounding towards the cannery. The sound of their servos pumping their legs was like an electronic battle song. Behind them were Esthar Special Forces, who were legally supposed to remain onboard the ship, yet they were already taking shots at the remaining mechs.

The mechs, made by Galbadia, immediately moved to engage an enemy that had been programmed in as their top priority. The SeeDs may as well not have been there. Selphie was especially glad for their apparent respite.

She watched the cyborgs leap into the air, and claw their way onto the jet-powered mechs. Sickle-guns and bare metal hands sought out the weak kinks in the robots' armor, and in very short order the armored shells were open. The cyborgs began ripping out vital electrical and hydraulic components like animals craving hot, wet food from the insides of their prey. The human Estharian soldiers were no less tenacious with their weapons, and brought down the mechs that their cyborg counterparts didn't have time to get.

A single damaged mech was making its way to safety, probably to achieve long-range weapon optimization. Its computer would determine that with so many new enemies the best course of action would be to retreat and fire heavy weapons. A roaring burst of blue-white light overtook it. The armor struggled to maintain its integrity. Specialized metals could withstand high-degrees of heat, but the blast from the pulse ammo rose to levels that most people wouldn't believe. Within moments the mech was reduced to a withered metal husk smelling of ozone.

Selphie's eyes moved to follow where the beam had come from. They settled on the smoking barrel of Irvine's Exeter. With a flick of his wrist the spent cartridge ejected and plopped into the mud at their feet where it sizzled.

"It's kinda a waste," said Irvine, staring at the ruined mech, "But I figured I owed them for the kid. What's one less pulse ammo cartridge anyway?"

She should've yelled at him for it. She should have told him how difficult it was to find the crystals to refine that ammunition, but there was nothing left to make her say so. She nodded, and watched the Esthar troops finish up what had once been a SeeD mission. All it was now was something that she wanted to forget.

XXX

For a long time he'd tried to forget about the shitty hands that fortune had dealt him. During their recent journeys, Fujin had reminded him more than once that luck played only the smallest part in al of his problems. His own choices had brought him to those downward moments. As was his way, Seifer had fumed and almost lashed out at her for such an accusation. But, then another lesson she'd taught him kicked in, and he realized that he would only be destroying himself again. If Fujin was gone, what would he have left?

Seifer smiled. He would have to remind her again about luck. It was luck that should've kept him from wandering deeper and deeper into a sinking aircraft carrier with the power failing and smoke rising. Luck would hopefully prevent Fujin from mourning the death of both of men.

Seifer struggled out of the hatchway and into the second level. The ship was almost fully on its side by then. He could hear the metal of the boat strain as water filled it. Further away he believed that he could hear the filling. It wasn't quite the sound of water that he would recognize, but rather a movement of pressure that blew a light wind in the direction of the exit. The ship was bleeding air out as it slowly died in the waters of the night. Seifer pressed on. Not wanting to imagine how cold the water was going to be when it reached him. Not wanting to imagine those last thoughts that he would have of Fujin as he drowned. _No, _he thought_, I'm not going to buy it in a place like this. There's not enough people watching._

Instead of looking ahead at what might be, he focused on what should be. He figured that officers onboard the carrier wouldn't be housed that far away from the superstructure. Though in reality, he didn't know much about Navy boats. He spent enough time fishing in the ocean, but, and Seifer would never admit this, he didn't like the feeling he got in his legs when he was on a boat. He much preferred to keep dirt beneath his feet, and the ocean at a distance equal to the casting of his pole. Raijin used to say that he had a similar belief. Seifer didn't know about Raijin anymore.

As he got deeper there was an acrid smoke that bit into his lungs. Red emergency lights gave it a strange muted color that grayer than black. Getting down the already narrow stairs was a ridiculous nightmare. He crawled and slid the best he could. How did these sailors deal with the insane stairs when they weren't turned sideways? There was a reason he hadn't joined the Navy.

Just how bleak his chances were was slowly dawning on Seifer, when he heard groans up ahead. Instinct made him think of the gunblade in his coat. _No. What, are you going to kill some poor sailor?_ He braced himself for however the person might look. With so many torpedoes there would've been awful explosions inside the ship with shrapnel tearing away from the very hull. During the war he'd seen plenty of blood, but the abstract flow of red couldn't prepare a person for the things that could be done to flesh by metal and fire.

He called ahead: "Hey! I'm coming down there." Seifer still couldn't see anything, and there was no answer. "I said: 'I'm coming down this corridor,' so don't attack me or anything." He wanted to add "You crazy Navy bastard", but didn't.

As he slowly shuffled forward, he heard the groaning get louder. There were rasping coughs layered in between the groans. Seifer shook his head at his own antics. It was just some injured sailor. He checked the gunblade. There were a fair number of rounds left. Raijin and the other officers from Galbadia hadn't offered him any of the specialized gunblade ammo. There was no sense in arming a known war criminal.

The figure amidst the smoke became visible, but just barely as Seifer's eyes burned in the arid haze. "You're almost out," said Seifer, "Now, if you don't mind, could you tell me where the officer's quarters are?"

"Huuurrsefer….urrkkkss."

Seifer was about to say "Pardon me?" when the figure's hand touched his shoulder. The height, the build, the strength in the hand, even something in the unintelligible rasp was familiar.

"Raijin?"

The figure nodded, and leaned against him. Seifer could smell the blood, and feel its warmth as it touched him. Fujin would be happy. That fact lifted his spirits. _Gotta seek out those good feelings where they fall_, he told himself,_ if you don't then you're going to get lost again, just like she's told you._

They began the slow journey back out of the ship's interior. Seifer could only guess at Raijin's injuries. He wasn't sure about Raijin's face judging from the blood coming off of it. Seifer wasn't a doctor, and it was difficult to tell in the dark of the smoke, but it didn't look good. _Better he have some scars and live to tell their story_, he thought, _he always talked about how mine was so cool._

There was a moment when Seifer believed that the two were lost. That some wrong turn had taken them to a different part of the ship. But, with some more luck they made it back to the hatchway that Seifer had first entered from. From that point Seifer had to consider which edge to go to with the ship listing to its side. The lower one would make it easier to get to a boat, but he would've rather been higher up if the boat suddenly flipped over. It was odd, and beyond his normal speculations of life. Like a twisted piece of art. Whoever thought that an aircraft carrier, practically a floating city could be lost, but it was. He and Raijin braced themselves against the chain hanging from a railing.

"What do you think, Raijin? Think you're up for a swim?"

"Boat," he thought he head in Raijin's wet mumbling.

Seifer didn't see any of the boats, but with the dark of night and the smoke still bleeding from the ship it wasn't much of a surprise. As he continued looking for rescue, Seifer looked to the east, and saw that the sun was about ready to be born. An odd violet sky marked the occasion, and he thought it was quite beautiful.

"Seifer!"

He looked around; not sure if it was real or only a piece of fleeting hope in his mind. Seifer heard the cry again. This time louder, and much clearer to him. He zeroed in on the direction.

"Fu?"

"This way. I can see you through a scope. We're moving the boat to the edge you're facing right now."

"Anything you say, Fujin." He looked to Raijin. "She's always right. You ever notice tha—"

It was like a fierce pinch, and it trapped the breath in his throat. He thought he was going insane when he looked down to see the knife sticking out of his side. There was no way it could be real. It all had to be some bizarre dream he was having. There was no conflict with Balamb Garden. He wasn't onboard a sinking aircraft carrier. Raijin hadn't just stuck a knife into him.

He was outside of Dollet with Fujin. They were lying atop a blanket after a small lunch of fruit she picked that morning. He lived for the sweet smell of her. The smell of the grass around them. It was everything that he'd grown to enjoy. And Raijin wanted to take all of it away.

Seifer bashed his forehead into Raijin's already bloody nose. There was a satisfying wet crunch that sprayed hot blood onto Seifer's scalp. He pulled himself away from Raijin. The two of them were barely able to stand, but they did so against the chain. Around them the ship was sinking into its grave. Sailors were still making their way to boats that Seifer couldn't see. He didn't care at that moment. None of the background mattered anymore.

What had just happened had been a long time in the making. Seifer didn't quite believe Raijin had actually gone through with it though.

"Did I wrong you at some point, Raijin? I've always thought I was fair with you. I treated Fu badly, but I'm dealing with that. Where do you get off doing this?"

"You," Raijin sputtered through the blood and mucous, "You took her…you take everything."

Seifer was so very aware of the gunblade tucked away in his coat. The weight of it—the awkwardness. He had the image in his mind: the gunblade cutting into the head of his former friend. The puller of the trigger, and the sneeze-like ejection of blood and bone. He wanted it.

"Do it, killer," said Brigadier General Raijin.

Seifer grabbed him, and threw him off the sinking ship. There was no splash, but a loud thud, and several cries from people down below. One of them was definitely Fujin, and she was screaming.

_Luck,_ he thought, _I would've used the gunblade on you._


	16. Clean Up

Chapter 16: Clean up

"What's wrong with him?"

Quistis shook her head. "We shouldn't have taken him with us. We've talked about this before, how some of us are not meant to go 'out there'."

Squall folded his arms over his chest, and sighed. "It's my fault."

"It's not. I was there. It's my job to keep people in line, and I failed."

"No." He grabbed her shoulder, and pulled her further away from where the others were being examined by the medics. "I went one step beyond tonight." He didn't want to mention his collapse inside of his quarters. "I'm supposed to be in charge, and I suppose I am, but just because you're in charge that doesn't mean you're right. I messed up a lot tonight."

"Squall…" She looked away. His eyes followed her gaze to see scores of Estharian troops fortifying their position around the cannery.

News was still coming in about the losses Galbadia might have suffered. It was no surprise that there was a complete communication silence. As important and motivating as their apparent hostilities with Galbadia were, the real talk of everyone there was about the strange-looking townspeople that Zell and the others had encountered. Even their problem with Nida, who hadn't spoken more than a word to anyone, had taken a backseat to the question everyone wanted to ask: what was going on in this place?

The rain had started up again. It was lighter than it was before, for which everyone was grateful. Its watery strikes against the tin of the cannery were the only noise other than the movements of the soldiers, and the medic's questions to Zell and the others.

"I'm going into the cannery," he told Quistis, "You should wait out here."

"I'll go with you."

XXX

The pain roared to life once the medics got involved. There was so much prodding at the wound as each medic assessed how bad it was. Then came the disinfectant rinse, which while it looked like the coolest soothing water, it ripped into Zell like warped saw blade. He almost passed out, but Xu was there holding his arms above his head so they wouldn't interfere with the medic. Her softness was so welcoming he wanted to fall asleep. With her head resting on his shoulder while standing behind him, she told Zell in little whispers how brave he'd been. How he was such a valuable member of SeeD.

In the distance, Zell could see Nida standing in a mud puddle with his head hung low. He felt bad for Nida despite what had happened to Nick. Accidents were expected in combat. They hadn't gotten into the details over what happened, and with all of the Estharian troops around, Zell didn't believe it was a good idea. There would be debriefings later on. Evaluations and decisions from Squall. But all of that could wait.

"You're very lucky," said the medic, dabbing away the excess disinfectant, "We'll get this stitched-up back on the main boat. Then we'll do some observations, but you should be fine."

"I'm not leaving yet. We don't know about those people."

Xu pulled his arms back more. "This is going to be an order," she said, "If you are not willing to cooperate. As a matter of fact, I'll be taking you there myself to ensure you go."

"Xu, they most likely killed Luke, and I hold them responsible for Nick."

She nodded. "Indeed, and like I told you, we will see to them fully. Our friends from Esthar will begin it for us. We won't be long."

He didn't feel good about any of it, but she held rank, and he knew that he needed to have the cut patched-up properly. They wouldn't keep him onboard though. Once all was set he was coming back out to the island.

Xu called out to Nida, and after a few times he turned to follow them to the assault boats.

XXX

Raijin had lived. Seifer hadn't decided how he felt about that. The past was tricky thing. How you kept your best memories of friends and those people special to you was key. They could never do wrong within the shade of your past. It was the ever-changing present that threatened to rot everything. People changed. No matter what past deeds were held dear. Not that their friendship had been the best. It was fairly one-sided most of the time, but even Seifer, often held to be a cynic, had a sad sense of loss regarding friendships. He mourned over the unspoken-exile the rest of the orphanage gang had levied on him.

He rested inside the sickbay of one of the Galbadian vessels as they retreated to their own waters. To a place that wasn't even his home, but the way things were going he doubted they'd be leaving Galbadia soon.

Fujin visited him earlier. She wanted to see the wound herself, as though she didn't believe his story. The patched-up hole convinced her that he had been stabbed, and maybe by some coincidence Raijin had done it, but surely it was during a fit of madness invoked by head trauma, or a complete accident.

He didn't correct her. He was afraid to do so. Afraid that she only remained with him by the thinnest of strings that could snap if he destroyed her view of Raijin.

"Raijin would never hurt you," she said, "We all came up together. Even when the others went their own way, we stayed with you. When we knew we wouldn't be SeeDs, we were disappointed, but we stuck together."

Every single word hurt so much. He told her that she was right. Raijin would never do such a thing. The look of relief on her face sent cool waves down his nerve endings. They cascaded until he reached shores within himself where there was no pain, and no worry, if only for a moment. He would never need to ask how much she meant to him. Besides he didn't believe that words could do anything but sully it. She could go on believing whatever she wanted about Raijin.

The doctors told him that he was lucky. That the knife had just missed his liver. In a few days he would be out of bed. Not out of their care, but it was enough freedom to keep him from leaving. He had little comfort in being stuck in one place for too long. The road had changed him.

XXX

Inside the cannery the smell was enough to make Squall gag. Fortunately, he'd already spent time throwing up back on _Garden's Dagger_ so once the initial heaves passed, he was able to choke the urge back down. Quistis didn't seem particularly bothered. She held her nose for awhile, but stopped doing that once they were further in.

They were not sure if it was the rain seeping inside from the plasma-scorched holes on the roof of if it was a feature of the cannery itself, but everything was dripping wet. The floor was littered with drains that funneled water to small canal-like troughs on the side. From there, Squall assumed, the water would drain out to sea. Several hoses with spray guns hung from the ceiling. This was no doubt how the facility was meant to be cleaned, but he believed that simple sprays of water would do anything would move the rotting funk around.

Machinery dominated the room. There were large vats where fish could be dumped from a catwalk above. That led to a conveyor belt station where fish offal littered the floor: it was a gutting station. And from there the belt fed into another machine attached to a hopper. Squall assumed it was grinder of something like it.

"You think we've ever had fish from this place?"

Quistis frowned. "I'm not big on fish. I suppose it's possible. The cafeteria gets food from all over. While this does look bad, you wouldn't want to see the place where our hotdogs are made."

"Where are they made?" He didn't add that he had always wondered.

"Timber. I visited the plant once, and never ate a hotdog again." She smiled.

He was glad for it. The night had been terrible despite their victory over Galbadia. Morning would be arriving son, and with it would be the political fallout. First, Galbadia would make their accusations, which would be listened to by many, but that "many" would hesitate to see a past aggressor as a victim. Cid had gone over these dealings with him on several occasions. Squall never imagined how political Garden's role could really be.

The trouble would come from the progressives in Fisherman's Horizon and Timber. They weren't Galbadia's biggest fans, but they always tried to thumb their nose and Dollet. And if they believed that Dollet wanted in on the "conquering game", then they would vehemently oppose Garden for supporting Dollet's ambitions.

Squall hated all of it. He would dump all of it on someone else's shoulders if he could. His eyes moved to Quistis. She would have a better time at all of the intrigue than he did. She knew every policy and every procedure that Garden had. His lips moved to ask her again, but his mind knew better. She'd been serious when she'd turned him down before.

_There is Xu_, he thought, _I should ask a few probing questions. Maybe she's been waiting for the chance._

He longed to hop aboard _Garden's Dagger_ and go see Rinoa on Centra. She would have an honest opinion on the whole thing. He needed someone who didn't mind questioning his authority. Someone who could point out the mistakes that he was making. The members of SeeD were just too loyal. _If only you were still here, Seifer. You wouldn't hesitate would you? But you've walked away from the world. There is no coming back if you can't forgive yourself._

There was a metal clang against the wet wooden floor. The two of them pounced in the direction of it. Quistis, with her whip already moving to crack in the air, and Squall with his modified _Punisher_. His original blade upgraded to the _Lion Heart_ was back at home. Their scanning eyes found nothing. Only the dead-still machinery, wooden crates, and several steel drums. Quistis pointed to one drum that was on its side.

Squall squatted down, the leather of his jacket creaking. He held the gunblade to his side, and nodded to Quistis, who spun her whip to crack loudly against the drum behind the fallen one.

Nothing. Just an echoing ring that hurt Squall's ears.

"Maybe it was nothing," he whispered, "We might still be just on…"

A blurry vision struck him. Driving the air from his lungs, and knocking him to the wet floor. Squall tried to bring the blade up, but his attacker was too close for him to strike.

Deformed and slimy hands pounded him. Squall shielded his face with his left arm, and tried to knock the creature off of him. He wasn't making progress. This person was so strong, and had a mad drive that wasn't relaxing one iota.

There were several staccato cracks of Quistis' whip. Squall could feel each impact through his assailant's body. The man screamed a gurgling fury as the whip tore into his flesh, and pulled whole slivers of graying epidermis with every single lash.

After several moments of this, Squall finally found an opening, and kicked the townsperson away. The man landed with a thud and an agonized moan. Quistis only took a moment to see if Squall was injured, and then she was back at her assault. Her arm was in a constant wind-up and lash routine. It was excessive by most regards, but Squall wasn't going to attempt to stop her.

He took his time in getting up, and steadying himself. At least he didn't have to worry about Quistis seeing it as weakness. She knew his abilities better than anyone. Despite how things had changed, she would always be his instructor. His blade was ready and loaded as he went to stand beside Quistis, who was still engaged in beating down the person who would be their first prisoner. He hoped that the others, after seeing their fellows gunned down, and now beat down would surrender peacefully.

_Don't count on it, _he thought, _if anything, they'll throw everything they have into resisting you._ While the rationale part of him knew this, he still wanted to believe in something better. The Esthar troops were infuriated not only the deaths of the two scouts, but the fact that Nick and Luke had been SeeD candidates for the new Esthar Garden. They were poster boys for the people back in Esthar Prime. If he didn't manage to get a quick surrender, there would be no town left when Esthar was done. He wondered if Dollet had taken this into account. Or were they counting on it? With the townspeople gone, Dollet could install its own colony. That would be their first acquisition as a true colonial power. Small, but definitive. _Not to mention the fact that Galbadia had their nose broken today._ It was all looking to be a good day for Dollet.

The man began crying. Squall figured that it was time. "Hold up, Quistis."

She stopped, but was still tense. In a second, she could go right back into her rhythm.

"What's your name?"

The man didn't respond. The beating from Quistis had covered him in lashes, and the filthy clothes he wore were shredded.

"I recommend that you cooperate fully, mister. This woman can get downright mean."

Quistis glared at him, but remained silent. She would've been much better at something like this, and Squall had to admit that her ferocity was a little out of character. Then he remembered what she had seen with Zell on the rooftop. Could he be angry with her after that? No, he knew he would've done the same. Worse even. Whips could lash, but a gunblade had a habit of cutting things off.

The odd-looking man did his best to sit up. He eyed Squall, with his bulbous fishy eyes, and then he spoke: "Why are you in our home, stranger?"

Each word was spoken with a watery forcefulness as though a wall of water existed between them.

"There had been no word out of here for over two weeks. People were worried about you."

"We keep to ourselves. It that too much to ask for?"

Squall leaned down a bit. His grip on the gunblade tightening. "Where is the freighter that Dollet sent?"

"What freighter?"

He looked to Quistis, and the whip was already twirling over her, but the strange man begged her not to. Squall was glad to call her off.

"Now, where is the freighter?"

"There is a cove. Northwest of here. There are some cliffs near it. It's over there. We didn't do nothing to it."

"And the crew?"

He didn't say.

XXX

Elsewhere, a man once known as Doctor Odine was languishing in the despair of boredom. He'd gone over the events leading up to his current situation, and saw no way that he could have altered the situation. If he hadn't taken _Puffer Fish_ out to the site, he would be sitting in his quarters in Esthar Prime even more despondent. There was always teaching to do, and with the prospect of an Esthar Garden there would be new contracts for development. Their own university would supply the larger part of this, though the regular contractors that operated for Garden would no doubt be there as they would consider it their right.

But if it was to be "Esthar Garden" then Esthar should bring it forth. He now regretted not being there for that. The chance to completely outclass the other three Gardens was so tempting. He had a magnificent idea for a Garden that could not only move, but transform into a more efficient combat vehicle. If only he'd had the time to build it a year ago. It could've forced its way into the battle between Balamb and Galbadia. How glorious it would've been to see his creation destroy both of its top competitors. That would've been a legacy. Now there was only the destruction of the world.

His new master had been quite silent. Odine now occupied one of the offices left inside of the Deep Sea Research Center. The _Puffer Fish_ was docked as safely as it could be. He had not been told what would happen if he left without permission, but he was in no mind to find out. The vision of Marie still haunted him. Despite the horror of her fate, Odine desperately wanted to see her again. There were so many things that he hadn't told her. Not that it mattered now in the most practical of terms, but still…

Marie's father had been instrumental in the development of the city's transport system as well as stimulating a new need to enhance their stalled space program. For several years the extent of the program had merely been the maintenance of the Sorceress Prison and the occasional moon investigation. Marie's passion had been the moon. The Lunar Cry was such an iconic event in their history. They really had no idea how often or how many times it had happened. The Lunar Cry prompted by Ultimecia had been recorded and studied intensely. Despite reports to the contrary, The Lunatic Pandora and the crystal pillar inside of it had been reclaimed by the government of Esthar. Odine wasn't sure what Loire's government would do with it again, but just having it was an extreme resource. A resource that he would not be able to access.

The office was in fair shape. Other than the layer of dust and evidence that some small monster had slept there, the office appeared as though it had been abandoned yesterday. The reports hinted at something to that effect. From what Odine could recall, not too long after breaking through to the rich deposit underground, an alarm had sounded and many people fled the center. Some stayed. Odine had spent hours looking over their reports of the events that transpired. It was fascinating. How a few scientific minds and their loyal support staff had held off a growing number of monsters. Speculation suggested that the monsters were attracted to something the facility had found. At least some of them had broken into the center from the outside, some had crawled up from the deposit, and others simply appeared. It was strange.

However, stranger was the behavior that Odine had first noted months ago when he'd tracked down and purchased the facility. This strange docility had to be the work of the master. He hadn't asked yet, but it was obvious. Odine didn't fear walking the halls. In fact, most of the creatures were gone as he had been shipping them off the Esthar before. Fewer and fewer were taking the place of the captured ones. His business was going to start suffering. Not that he could really do anything about that now.

He spent his hours cleaning the office he'd taken over. His predecessor had been somewhat of a disorganized slob of a scientist. Something that Odine hated amongst his own personnel. There were other offices that he'd explored, but this one was grander, and provided him with a wonderful view of the dark ocean outside. He had glimpsed animals up close that he had only read about in digital books. And it was during one of those long stares that he began to hear the roar.

At first he was sure that the structural integrity of the center was failing. That any second millions of gallons of water were either going to flood in or that this lower section of the center would be crushed into oblivion. Neither happened. He could've been content to forget about the noise so long as it never occurred again, but it did. Finally, after much debating with himself, Odine asked: "Master, what is wrong?"

"…_SeeD…_"

The sound of the word seemed to form in his mind and ring out of his ears like growls from caves of the beasts of legend. Odine would no longer have to wait for the master to slowly send out his tentacles into every facet of the civilized world. The world above, to which Odine was now a traitor, had made its choice.


	17. Probing the Inner Dark

Chapter 17: Probing the Inner Dark

The waves lapped gently at the shore. As they came in, they tussled the little bits of black sand in their water. There were tiny golden flakes tumbling with the obsidian-colored grains. It was a beautiful sight she'd grown to love over the last year. Centra was uninhabited. Ruins were sparse. Nature and time took over. Even Edea's house, somewhat repaired, was a ruin. But it was her home now—her school.

Rinoa sank her hand into the sand. If there was enough water and the sand was fine enough it was like a pudding. She could spend hours playing with it, and thinking about only the sound of the waves. In that she found a form of clarity. Life had been made very simple during her education here. Her old clothes were locked away in a trunk. She wore a rough and plain burlap dress that Edea showed her how to make. She cooked or helped cook every meal. The hardest part was the isolation. Edea apologized for it, but reassured her that it was necessary.

According to Edea, the greatest sorceresses were taught humility before they came fully into their powers. Rinoa's situation was unusual. The possession by Ultimecia, the junctioning by Adel, and her proximity to Edea were major factors. Had they not occurred she may have lived a normal life. But Edea also said that Ultimecia would only be able to connect with a latent sorceress. She said something about how looking back through the Stream of Time was difficult. One had to look for "lanterns", and another sorceress would stand out. Even the most powerful sorceress had limitations. When Rinoa asked about Ellone, who could send people across time by another power, Edea changed the subject.

That had been months ago. The days passed, and Rinoa accustomed herself to the small world she was allowed. She reminded herself that it was only small through her eyes. The other senses took her elsewhere. Her sorceress training took her even further. With Edea's instruction she touched the edges of reality—and there were edges. It went well beyond normal magic. Beyond the normal parameters of living.

She stopped playing in the sand.

The wind coming off the water felt cold. Maybe she would add another layer to her dress tonight. Edea had been giving her more free time lately. The older sorceress was trying to reconnect with her estranged husband. Rinoa had been told to go walk along the shore and search for personal meaning. She suspected that this had been an excuse to get her out of the house so Cid and Edea could be together. This happened a few times before, but never for this long. Perhaps they were building up to it. Being separated from each other for so long must've been unbearable. She could understand perfectly.

Her own relationship was stagnant. She did her best to send little messages to Squall by-way-of Cid, but Cid only talked to Squall during very important matters. Not that long ago Squall had called late at night. She didn't know the details, but it must not have been good.

Rinoa looked out at the horizon. She held her in front of her face to look at her palm sideways. She then counted how many lengths of her hand there were between the horizon and the sun. It was almost time for a lesson, or so Edea said earlier. She had probably forgotten about it with Cid there.

There was a crack behind her. Rinoa turned, and looked right into a churning fireball. She raised a shield of water just in time to see it steam away after protecting her. A nest of electricity began to weave together in the air above her. She knew how long it usually took to discharge. Rinoa summoned a cloud of dry sand into a swirl above her head. The lightning struck, and the sand was melted into a piece of glass in the shape of a shield that had already protected her.

She heard the whistle in her ear. It was Edea speaking to her from far away as she often did. The words opened up right inside of her head. "_Most excellent, my dear. Even when I let you get bored you are still able to react well. That normally takes years._"

Rinoa was able to broadcast back to her teacher. "_You've been distracted, Mistress. I knew it was coming at some point._"

"_You're right. I have been, and I'm sorry. He's still my husband, and one of the few people willing to tolerate me._"

"_You don't need to apologize. I envy your dilemma._"

Edea sighed. "_I know you miss him my dear. It's…I mean it's necessary for now…you'll see._"

"_Is something wrong?_" Rinoa felt something odd: a tingling starting very low on her own body, and going up. Her knees buckled, and she almost fell over when she realized what she was feeling. Every physical detail was there except for the sights and smells. She hadn't experienced it for a long time, but still…

"_Mistress Edea, you're broadcasting more than just your…voice."_ Her breathing was becoming ragged. Elsewhere, Edea's breathing must have been the same.

_This is worse than walking in on them_, she thought.

_"You feel it?"_

"_I can't believe you."_

"_He's my husband."_

"_It's okay."_

Just as suddenly as it began her reception stopped.

"_Sorry, my dear. I seemed to have been caught up in the moment as it were. It was inappropriate."_

"_It's alright._" She didn't say what she really felt, but Edea knew.

"_We didn't ruin your first experience, did we? That would be a shame._"

Rinoa's skin was flushed for a different reason now. _"No. it wasn't my first time. I knew exactly what those sensations were about."_

"_Was it with Squall_?"

Rinoa didn't want to answer, but she made it a point never to lie to Edea. "_No. Before him…I mean, I've been with Squall, but…why are we talking about this?"_

"_It was Seifer._" It wasn't a guess; it was a statement of fact. "_Those two will fight over anything. I knew so when I was raising them. They were determined to play pivotal roles in this world. And you, my student, have been with both of them. Fate is not a perfectly straight thread, but a tangled ball of yarn."_

"_Please don't talk about it."_

Edea actually laughed. "_Walk home slowly, my dear. I believe we're done for now." _

XXX

Squall waited for someone to show themselves. Either a surviving Dollet crew member for him to save or another deformed townie, which he would probably have to knock into the dark, churning waters. _That's probably what they want_, he thought_, they do have an odd fishy quality to them. After all the weird things we saw, some odd townies get to me. I'm not even near middle age yet, and I feel myself becoming an old man._

Kline, the White SeeD beside him, asked if he was all right.

"I am. It's just been a long operation. What we did a year ago seems so easy now. Don't get me wrong, we got lucky, but we just kept going."

"You saved the future and every time that ever was."

Squall remembered the pile of White SeeD bodies outside of Ultimecia's castle. How long had they carried on the fight? He wasn't sure what the greater implications of the time frame were. The White SeeD might not exist as long as they once did before. But then again, how many Ultimecias might there still be?

"Stay on the boat," said Kline, "We can take care of everything."

_That's what I'm afraid of._ He gripped the handle of his modified _Punisher._ It wasn't as large or as heavy-duty as the _Lion Heart_, but it was light, and better for close quarters combat. He needed to do this. He'd ordered the technicians and crew off of the _Garden Dagger_, and manned it along with Kline and his group of White SeeD. The captain and the crew were annoyed at this, and Quistis had been furious. He had to do it though. He remembered the battle with Galbadia Garden. He'd leapt onto that hover platform and fought that solider hand to hand. People had talked about it for weeks. He needed to recapture that.

"Follow me," said Squall, and he leaped from the rail of the _Garden Dagger_, and onto the freighter.

XXX

Hours away, Rinoa sat in quiet meditation within her room. Edea and Cid were once again enjoying each other's company. She was happy for them. Two people in love had certain inalienable rights. She hoped to be so lucky in her own life. Her relationship with Squall was admittedly on hiatus. The mention of her time with Seifer had been painful, but she steadied herself through that, and thought about Squall.

_One day…one day_…

She let the troubles of her mind slip away. Her small room was clean but nearly bare. Rinoa had painted it with a simple white wash. After that, Rinoa mixed the black beach sand and its gold flakes with a blue pigment Edea showed her.

"You can still find beauty amongst the simple," the sorceress said. "I would expect no less from one of my students."

"How many have you taught?"

The sorceress never answered. After her painting was finished Rinoa's room resembled an ethereal child born from the sky and the sea below. It was a blending of blues, blacks, whites, and grays that one only saw on Centra at night. The gold flakes were like stars. Most visitors were spooked by the old continent. They believed it to be haunted. When they did visit it was only during the day, and if they had to be there overnight they hid in their boats. Mostly it was fishermen or other sailors. Monster hunters were rarer, and thankfully, because they were very dangerous.

But none of it bothered her in this special place. She was secure and separate in her own space. She was perfect. And in that space—that distant black void, she reached out herself to the great distances as she'd been taught.

And in that place she heard a voice.

XXX

It was hard to believe that the rain could feel colder. The storm had gone on for so long now despite the small breaks. It didn't seem to bother Kline, which made it worse for Squall. The White SeeDs were almost as bad as the Esthar soldiers, just not as overt about it. And they went out of their way to be polite to him because not only was he the leader of SeeD—he was a hero.

Kline was armed with a small waterproof assault rifle, which he pointed in every direction he looked. After following Squall onboard the ship, Kline made himself the point man. Squall didn't bother objecting. He directed his indignation towards the weather. He craved an opponent: someone truly deserving of pain. _Punisher_ felt heavy in his hands.

The freighter looked as normal as it could. When it came to their "working" vessels Dollet shed their effete grandeur in favor of tough practicality. It was armored to withstand the severe weather. There was no apparent damage from weapons or anything. From far way he could see the small indicator lights from the consoles up on the bridge. Perhaps it was still operational.

"Make for the bridge," Squall said over the rain. "Hopefully we can power it up and turn on the lights."

Kline nodded, rifle still at the ready.

XXX

"I have no reason to believe you," said Rinoa. "And if you are who you claim to be, then you know I can't believe you."

_"That's your problem_," said the voice. _"I am merely trying to help you and me._"

She wanted to get Edea's point of view on this, but it wasn't possible. The voice had only approached her through the distance of her meditations. Edea warned her about powers that might contact her. A sorceress was like a beacon to the world outside. Some of those beings wanted entrance or an exit from "prisons" according to Edea. Others wanted things beyond comprehension.

"Is there some way to confirm this?" she asked. "Evidence or something?"

_"I don't have the means or the time."_

"I can't believe you. Not after what we did. We had to do it."

_"And you will live with the consequences."_

XXX

Kline guarded the door while Squall worked on the console. The system had been set to hibernate. After some tweaking the computer was up, and full power was restored.

More of the White SeeDs came on board. They would guide the Dollet vessel back to the port once a search was conducted. It was all rather anti-climactic for Squall. He sat in the chair of some captain who was missing. They should've sent for more information from Dollet. When they got back he'd have Quistis get right on it.

"Well, Kline," he said. "I suppose we'll…"

He saw the movement from the corner of his eye. The next thing he knew, Kline had the gun pointed at him.

"Please cooperate, sir," said Kline. "It really is for your own good."

The barrel pointed at his face looked so big. The chamber of the round looked so dark. Would he see a flash of light before the bullet tore apart his skull?

"What's going on, Kline?"

"Drive the boat. You have an important meeting to go to."

Squall did as he was told.

XXX

Even though the noises she heard from behind the door told her no to open it, there was no choice in the matter. Rinoa opened the door, and surprised the older couple as they were in full vigorous embrace. Cid was the most mortified. He fell off the bed, hid behind a blanket, and cursed Rinoa. The Sorceress Edea adjusted her composure, and calmly asked her student what the problem was.

"What is the true purpose of the Sorceress?"

Edea smiled. "My, you are a fast learner." She looked to her angry and naked husband. "I'm sorry, my love, but there is much work to be done, and time is the enemy."


	18. Home and Garden

Chapter 18: Home and Garden

"Tell me you're not going to take it," she said.

"It might not be easy to say 'no'. Things have a way of progressing. Now more than ever." It was a reasonable thing to say. Much more reasonable than "Raijin is the kind of guy who wants blood for blood, and the old men running Galbadia are the same, and they want me to help them because I'm supposed to be the monster."

Fujin looked sadder and softer than she ever had before. Did he notice this change?

"A commission?" She said it as though the weight of each word was taken from her own flesh, and fell out of her mouth.

"I still haven't said 'yes' yet."

"But it's only a matter of time. And he will need you."

There it was. The rationalization. _Forget_ _about our little moment on top of_ _that carrier_. _The knife wound hasn't even fully healed yet, and you want me to be some sort of buddy to him. _

The gunblade was being worked on. At least the Galbadians were promising all the ammo he could want. He was going to stock up. If he dropped out again there might not be a supplier for years. Seifer hated the possibility. _Did they tell painters there would be no more paint? Of course not. Painters were destined to paint._

He stepped closer to her. Fujin moved back a little, but there was no where to go in the small apartment they'd been given.

"What's wrong, Fu?"

"Nothing," she said. Her eyes darted around like she was looking for some distraction to comment on.

He continued, "You've been…I don't know…a little distant since we go back."  
She shrugged. Fujin had taken to dressing more feminine. She was actually wearing a skirt. Her hair was getting longer. The eye patch was long gone, and both blue eyes clear for all to see. She was changing. _And what am I doing?_

"I'm just adjusting," she said, pointing to the modern home décor now surrounding them. "This is all so new. I'm not really used to it yet. You understand."

She smiled at him, and it was that smile that usually nailed him to their sticking place.

"Uh…yeah. You're right," he said.

"Seifer? How often do we really think about the future?"

"I thought we were just going where the road takes us."

"And that got us right back into the mess."

"I'm willing to leave if you are. We don't owe Galbadia or him anything. "

"No," said Fujin. "Galbadia could be okay…I just…I don't know."

It was almost too much to tolerate. Love could be a hard thing. He wasn't sure if the brief summer with Rinoa had ever been love. There had been plenty of lust, words, and no small number of promises. Time and personal commitments crushed most dreams. _Usually for the better._

The little apartment Raijin got for them was nothing special. A concrete box in downtown Deling City. The kind of place an ordinary working couple would love to afford. They'd been given it was a matter of convenience. A "special" officer of the Galbadian Army couldn't be living out of a car. Said car was resting in their parking space.

Despite his rise and fall Seifer never had a parking space before. _Domesticity_, he thought_, we're already settling down—already planning the road leading to our deaths_.

"I gotta meet up with some of the general staff people in Intelligence."

She didn't say anything for a while. After committing herself to the new world around them, she said: "They want specs on Garden."

"Yeah, it's stupid. I think they already got it all from the three of us during the war. Not that it helped."

During the Garden to Garden battle Galbadian forces had a list of high value targets provided by the old Disciplinary Committee. They didn't receive thirty pieces of silver. It was just expected.

"Do you love me?"

"I do," said Seifer. "As well as I know what love is, I do."

"More than Rinoa?"

"What I had with Rinoa was something else"

"What does that mean?"

He remembered Rinoa asking similar questions as they wiped the sweat off of each other. They always asked so many questions.

"I have to go," he told her. "I'll call you later."

It was the beginning of the end. He was sure of that.

XXX

Quistis and Xu outranked Zell is most things. It was on their orders that he was confined to a hospital bed aboard one of the Estharian ships. He would've preferred the _Dagger_, but Squall had taken it to investigate the freighter. Zell wasn't sure how he felt about that. Their leader had played some harsh moves lately. It must've been part of being a leader. Some of the younger cadets wanted to know when he would be the leader. Zell's response was always the same: "It's not worth the hassle." He felt that way about a lot of stuff now.

He just needed to get home. Being covered in bandages, and with an IV in his arm, he was done for a while. Balamb seemed like paradise. Old man Onaki was still in that cell. There was a horrible mystery to solve. Zell couldn't wait to get back.

Quistis came into the room, and Zell did his best to act healthy. The truth was his chest burned as though he were going to split open. He regretted his earlier enthusiasm to get back on duty. They were right: he'd been lucky.

Quistis looked at him with eyes that were focused elsewhere. "You're alright?" she asked.

"Pretty good, what's up?"

"Something's wrong. We've had no word from Squall. He's not answering the radio."

"What about the plane? Send it out to check on him."

She shook her head. "The weather is too bad."

"This isn't like you. You should be leading the boats to find him."

"I know. I just wanted to tell you."

Quistis left.

Zell wanted to get up and do something to help, but he would be useless to them. He was left uncertain—waiting for something else to happen.

XXX

Squall was waiting for the whole sick episode to end. To be taken hostage during his own operation by men who were supposed to be his operatives was embarrassing. He supposed it could be a new faction. After the war the balance of power had tipped. It had been another warning from Cid. There never seemed to be an end to the surprises.

He kept driving the boat. The White SeeD, if they were White SeeD, hasn't said another word. In a way he was glad. It was only a matter of time. This was the _Garden Dagger_. Several other people knew where they were going. They had multiple boats, air superiority, and satellite reconnaissance. He would let these guys think they pulled off something spectacular. When a bunch of Esthar cyborgs were clawing them, they'd beg him for mercy.

"You're doing very well, Mr. Leonhart. We were worried that you would panic or something," said Kline.

Two of the other men laughed.

There would be no mercy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Squall asked them. "Who's paying you for this? Is serving the good will of the Matron not good enough?"

There was no laughter. In their tight white/gray uniforms they were lithe shadows out from a fog. _It's SeeD like this that carries over into the future, he thought, what does that say about the rest of us?_

Kline smiled. He tapped his assault rifle on the floor in cheer. "This is why you're so famous. We used to think it was your abilities alone, and they are nothing to smirk at, but it's the attitude that makes you infamous. If any other SeeD said that, I'd make him count his teeth in a blood puddle, but you…It's like watching a cheesy actor deliver his one-liner."

Smiles and laughter again.

Kline continued, "We respect you and the thing you've done. We'd happily work for you as well." They all nodded. "But, you need to be enlightened first, sir. Once you are you'll be the best commander SeeD could ask for."

"Enlightened?"

"By the Master. "They bowed their heads is reverence. "He will tell you the ways of the world. The secrets that the stars whisper when they're looking down on us."

"You're taking me to your astrologer?" he huffed. "Well, let's get it over with then." _Quistis, where are you? I've been gone for too long, and you know it._

One of the White SeeDs urged him away from the helm and took over. Squall waited for his next orders.

"Take off your clothes," said Kline. "They'll just get ruined on your way to see him. You'll need them when you come back."

"What?"

The assault rifle was pointed at him again. "Your clothes—all of them, and right now, or we will take them off for you."

_Quistis, where are you?_

XXX

XXX

They led Squall to the edge of his own boat. He was freezing. His clothes had been left in a pile inside to keep them warm. Kline poked him in the lower back with the assault rifle.

"Don't worry, Squall. It won't be that bad. Like many things, it's weird and uncomfortable at first, but it just grows on you."

"This is ridiculous, Kline. I'm going to freeze out here."

"He shall keep you warm."

Squall looked out to see the churning dark water. It blended with the darkening sky. Cold rain pelted his pale nakedness.

He shivered, only partially from the cold.

"Relax," said Kline. "It's about to happen."

There was a strange sound. Like a whistle married to a horn and emerging from the depths below. A watery spray surrounded the boat. When he wiped some of the fluid off of his body, Squall saw that it was a watery darkness. Something like inky snot. He couldn't see anything in front of him.

"Take me back in" he said to Kline. "I can negotiate on behalf of Garden."

"And so you will, after you've seen the mystery of the master."

Out of the dark, a gathering of tentacles slowly closed around the boat like a hand making a fist. The boat shuddered as it was gripped in place. A smaller tendril rose from the depths, and felt around Squall's body. It was exploring, groping, and getting to know him.

Squall was lost in desperation. "Kline!"

The rapid taps of bullets covered the boat. Other rounds were fired at whatever was in the dark water. It receded, but only a little. The small tendril wrapped around Squall's waist.

He heard his name being screamed. It was Quistis. She and the assault boats arrived. More shots rang out. The boats rammed into the _Dagger_. Esthar cyborgs leapt onto it.

After firing all of his shots at the White SeeD, one of the cyborgs hacked at the tendril gripping Squall. When it was sliced off, thick inky goop sprayed all over the commander of SeeD. The cyborg moved in front to protect him.

Squall looked around for Kline's men. Most had fallen to the Estharian gunfire. He watched one hacked down by another cyborg. He couldn't see Kline.

"The tentacles," Squall cried. "Shoot the tentacles. There's something down there."

Quistis directed all of the gun mounts to fire at the brackish water. The level of fire was so intense that the area began to resemble a boiling hot tub complete with the steam from the hot lead.

The tentacles were withdrawn. There was nothing left. Quistis ordered a ceasefire.

She leapt aboard the _Garden Dagger_ when her boat got close enough, and hurried to Squall's side. She pretended that he wasn't naked. Squall appreciated the gesture, though it didn't help quench the burn of humiliation.

"What was going on?" she asked.

"I have no idea. They said they were going to 'enlighten' me."

She grimaced. "There were White SeeDs. This doesn't make sense. They are the most loyal."

"Where are the other ones?"

"Back on the island, but I don't think—"

"We need to be sure."

Quistis looked over the side. "What was that thing? And what was it going to do to you?"

He shook his head. "Let's just get back to the island."


End file.
